The Color Grey
by Mary Pseudonym
Summary: Anastasia Steele, a young and almost graduated literature student, accompanies her roommate to an interview with C.E.O. Christian Grey. The interview and the events afterwards will change how she sees the world and how she sees herself. Can Christian tempt her into fulfilling both their desires or will she tempt him into something more?
1. Chapter One - Mr Grey Will See You Now

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

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Chapter One - Mr. Grey Will See You Now

I tried to ignore the coughing in the seat beside me. A greater case should have been made for Kate, my best friend and roommate, to stay at home on the couch. However, as Kate said, any journalist worth their salt would not send someone else in their stead. She is right of course. I cannot even imagine what would have happened if she had sent me alone to interview a C.E.O..

My insistence that I drive her was agreed upon eventually; this, of course, I don't mind. Kate's car drives like a dream, a wonderful German engineered dream. Applying the brakes, as we finally hit some track, I take in a look around the city as we come to a slow crawl. It will probably take a couple of minutes before we reach Grey House.

"We won't be late will we?" Kate says. Her voice is croaking, badly. I take a look in the rear view mirror, just glad we aren't further down in the line.

"Not with some patience and good fortune." Just as I finish talking, the cars in front begin to move. I treat Kate to a wry smile as I step on the gas.

Good fortune is indeed on my side as there is a perfect spot right in front of Grey House. It will make for a quick getaway so I can put Kate back to bed as soon as possible. I watch as Kate fumbles with her things, the notes shaking in her hands. The impulse to tell her to cancel the interview is reluctantly suppressed as I know I lost that particular argument hours ago.

"Stay in your seat, I will come around and help," I say, jumping out of the car. Opening the door, I take everything from Kate and step back so she can exit the car without hassle. She is a little shaky but manages to propel the door closed behind her. I stand and listen while the door makes the satisfying locking noise.

Following along behind Kate, I enter Grey House for the first time. Immediately I pull at the dress Kate made me wear, wishing I had listened when she had explained about the level of sophistication Grey House is known for; not to mention Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc., the behemoth company that residents here. It is, quite frankly, intimidating. Everything about the glass, steel, and sandstone has me in awe of the building.

Sitting, with a grace unseen before by mere morals, behind a solid sandstone desk is an extremely attractive blonde young woman. She smiles pleasantly, but I can tell that she is sizing up Kate instantly. Once again I pull at the dress with my free hand, hoping the plum color doesn't look too horrid on me.

"Katherine Kavanagh to see Mr. Grey." Even with her voice breaking, Kate commands the attention she so desires. The blonde behind the desk shifts her gaze to the computer in front of her.

"And you Miss?" She doesn't look up, but her slender fingers tap at the keyboard. Oh god, she is talking to me.

"Anastasia Steele, I am just assisting Miss Kavanagh with her things." My voice tapers off at the end of the sentence. I know she isn't listening. Not that it surprises me. I tuck one of the escaped tendrils of my hair behind my ear as I look at the ground.

"You will both need to sign in." She stresses the word both and before I can react Kate signs her name, handing me the sheet.

I busily write down my name as Kate collects visitor passes from the receptionist. I laugh to myself at how stupid my signature looks when examining the list. Even Kate's looks like it belongs there with all the high power types. My little Ana Steele almost seems like a joke.

"You'll want the last elevator on the right," the receptionist says, looking at only Kate. She pauses, turning her gaze to her monitor. "I will be there in a moment to give you access." With that she is once again typing away at her keyboard.

Once we make our way over, Kate turns on me and pins the visitor pass onto my chest. While donning her own, she presses the up button and squares her shoulders. To me it looks as though she is preparing for battle.

Silently opening, the elevator arrives; before I can even step in, the blonde receptionist appears. I am slightly startled but certain that she and Kate didn't notice the small jump, almost certain anyway. They must train the receptionists how to walk silently on six inch heels. She also manages to make entering a code into the elevator look like important work. Kate and I step in while she exits, not even exchanging a single word.

"How did she know when the elevator would arrive?" I say to Kate, lowering my voice. Kate just shrugs her shoulders.

As the elevator doors close, I can see myself reflected on all four walls. Kate, somehow, seems to have sucked all the sickness back into herself. She looks beautiful and posed, standing strong in her blue business suit and white dress shirt. Myself on the other hand, in a borrowed dress and flat shoes, looks lost and misplaced.

Hell, even Kate's blonde hair blends in with the crowd here at Grey House. Whereas, the closest my chestnut locks come are the few natural golden highlights running throughout. At least, I tell myself as I stare back with large blue eyes from the elevator mirror, my long mane of non-blonde hair is falling in a semi decent manner this morning.

I know that I don't fit in at all, but I cannot seem to find it within myself to care. After all, no one can know what is going on in my head just by looking at me. They don't know that I have not one but two novels tucked into the bag on my shoulder. It really is one of the greatest inconveniences of my life, being two chapters away from the end of a book and needing to go outside.

For the rest of the trip in the elevator, the surprisingly not surprisingly long trip upwards, I watch Kate. I really do worry about her. However, I learnt in freshman year not to get in between her and her goals. It was a lesson I only needed to learn once.

When the elevator doors finally open at the twentieth floor, we are greeted with another desk. This Mr. Grey, C.E.O. must be obsessed with glass, steel, sandstone, and blonde women, because I am confronted with yet another perfect specimen of a woman.

"Miss Kavanagh, Miss Steele?" Her voice is slightly clipped, curt. She is furiously typing at her computer, when she suddenly looks up at us and rises from her chair.

"Yes," Kate says, answering for the both of us.

"Please, wait one moment." With that the new blonde turns and disappears down the hallway to our left.

Kate and I move out of the path in front of elevator; we instead wait over near the large white leather couch. I long to sit, yet Kate stands firm. Maybe sitting is like surrender in the interview world. Perhaps it is just Kate being her tenacious self. I am about to ask her when another blonde woman comes out of the hallway. I wonder what happened to Blonde Number One.

"Thanks for waiting, Miss Kavanagh, Miss Steele," She nods at us as I wonder if a company wide memo went out with our names on it. "Mr. Grey will see you now."

"I'm not going into the meeting, shall I sit over there?" I point to the increasingly enticing couch behind me. The latest blonde nods, until Kate starts to cough with vigor.

"Ana?" Kate says. I can hear the anxiety in her voice. With all the natural talent of a slug worm, I softly hit my head with my right palm and laugh the most fake laugh I have ever heard.

"How silly of me, I am taking notes." The blonde makes a face at me, hiding it quickly. She isn't buying what I am selling. Yet she gestures her hand to the door at the far end of the room.

Rather shakily, I walk towards the door. I can hear, feel, Kate right behind me. Her things are still piled in my hands. Shifting them around to my side, I push open the door marked Mr. Grey, C.E.O.. This I didn't sign up for, but I am a sucker for punishment; plus, I would do anything for a friend.

I can see it happening; feel it happening. The door opens too fast, I stumble through. Tripping over my own two feet, all of the things in my hands fly out in front of me, and I fall head first into the office. Thankfully, I don't land face first; I end up on my hands and knees.

Kate lets out a cry of exclaim from behind me, but I don't really hear it. All that my mind, my body, can focus on is the man standing before me. He is so young, attractive, and he is walking towards me. Now this man can wear a suit and tie. I can feel a blush already beginning to spread across my face.

First impressions are not best made on all fours so as he reaches me, I quickly and awkwardly propel myself up. Shaking his outstretched hand instead of letting him help me to my feet, I try for a weak smile. Since I don't know him I cannot tell if it is shock or concern on his face, that handsome face which is staring directly at me.

"Miss?" He cocks his head to the side. His long-fingered, surprisingly soft, hand is still grasping mine. His light gray eyes search my face for something. I am not sure if they find it.

"Anastasia Steele and I am Katherine Kavanagh." Kate says, sounding so professional; I would feel pride if I could concentrate on anything other than the feelings Mr. Grey is producing within me.

"Christian Grey." Mr. Grey doesn't turn his head to look at Kate, but he does release my hand. "I wasn't aware I would command such attention from Washington State." Right on cue, Kate starts around round of coughing. As I look over at her, I notice she looks beyond embarrassed.

"I am a tad under the weather; Ana here was kind enough to offer to take my notes." Turning my gaze back to Mr. Grey, I notice that he is still looking at me. I immediately drop my eyes to the ground. From the movement around me, I know he has turned to face Kate. Finally.

"I hope it is nothing too serious, Miss Kavanagh." I still cannot bear to look at Mr. Grey but even looking at the floor, I can tell what most people would have said as a question he has simply stated. Kate, who reads most people better than I read books, pushes through the intensity of the moment.

"Just a passing illness I am sure." From years of friendship, I can tell from the tone of her voice she is holding something back.

"Which I am sure would be better served spending time in bed than with me," Mr. Grey says. Despite myself, I smile. It almost feels like a joke, yet I can still hear the serious overture to his voice.

"Ana's thoughts exactly," Kate says, with a winning smile on her lips I am sure; she is still congratulating herself on out arguing me. As if I would have ever won.

"Yet here we are," I say barely under my breath.

"Yes. Here you are." When I look up, Mr. Grey is staring directly at me. That is when it happens for the first time, and definitely not the late time, during our exchange. A delightful and foreign shiver runs from my spine to the base of skull. Our eyes lock, and I feel myself let out an inaudible gasp.

"Shall we begin?" Kate says. If she has noticed the energy between Mr. Grey and me, she is choosing to ignore it.

Unable to make the first move, I continue to stare into his eyes. He is holding my gaze steadily, almost impassively. Then, so fast I nearly miss seeing it, he flashes me a small smirk. Once it has dropped again from his lips, so have his eyes from mine. With long powerful strides, he is walking over to his large impressive desk.

My gaze is immediately mesmerized by the breathtaking view behind said impressive desk. Staring at the ground, and at Mr. Grey, before had shielded it from my view. Beyond us, only glass between this office and the outside world, is an unparalleled view of the Seattle skyline. It is a stunning view, one that makes we wonder why his desk faces away from it.

"We are very excited to have you appear in the special graduation issue of the student newspaper, Mr. Grey." Kate says as she follows behind him. Mr. Grey situates himself behind the desk. He gestures to the beautiful and surely expensive leather couch in front of him. I mentally add leather to the list of things he must be obsessed with.

"As I am excited to be conferring the degrees at the graduation ceremony this year," Mr. Grey says. Kate glides over, gracefully perching herself on the edge of the couch before him.

Pausing a moment, collecting what little composure I have and everything I have dropped, I let this new information enter into my head. I hope that at the graduation ceremony I will not be as awkward as this, because if he is presenting me my degree I am probably bound to fall on my knees again and not in the good way.

Reluctantly I make my way to sit further down on the couch beside Kate, making a useless wish that Kate had prepared me for this interview. Not that she should have; up until five minutes ago I wasn't even supposed to be in this office with them. This office that is too large for one man, no matter how intimating I find him. Scratch that, maybe he should have an office even greater in size.

"Shall we begin." Kate says. Mr. Grey simply nods in response and sits. "May we record this interview, Mr. Grey?" An actual question this time.

"Sure," he says with a small incline of his head.

In the seconds it takes me to realize I have all of Kate's belongings, and hand her the notebook and pen, Mr. Grey is already letting out a low chuckle. Perfect Steele, way to go. I fumble with the recorder. Kate, like the professional she is soon to be, is looking pointedly at me. Giving her a shy smile and a small nod, I indicate we are ready.

"You are very young to have amassed such an empire. To what," Kate begins, but Mr. Grey stops her before she can ask the question.

"To what do I owe my success?" He finishes for her. "Seriously?"

"It is the question our students most want answered, Mr. Grey". Quickly glancing at him I see a rueful smile play on his lips, yet I feel his disappointment somehow.

"Business, for me, is about people. I have always been good at people. You could say I know how they tick, what motivates them, what incentivizes them, and what inspires them." As Mr. Grey is talking I can tell almost immediately that something is not right with Kate.

Her left hand is griping the couch and her right has stopped moving on the page before her. When I manage another peek at him, I know he has realized it too. Yet, in what I assume is an effort to preserve as much of the professional nature of the interview as he can, he keeps on talking.

"I make decisions based on logic and facts, but it always comes down to having the right people. So I rely on my ability to recognize talented individuals." Mr. Grey says. Kate stalls asking the next question, her eyes shifting on the page. I clear my throat tentatively and once again brace myself as I turn my gaze to Mr. Grey.

"Maybe you are just lucky." The smile he gives me seems genuine, almost unguarded. He lets out a small sound, a mixture of amusement and derision.

"I've always found that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have." I want to say something else, but Kate shifts in her sit beside me.

"Mr. Grey," she says but pauses. I can see the effort on her face to stay composed. Suddenly she hands me the notebook on her lap and the list of questions. "Would you please excuse me a moment?" I don't bother looking back at him; I am too concerned about Kate.

"Sure, Miss Kavanagh." She has barely waited for him to answer before she standing from the seat, I watch her move through the office and out of the room. My gaze is still on the door as it softly closes behind her. I more feel the movement in the office, rather than hear it. When I turn back, Mr. Grey is leaning on the edge of his desk directly in front of me. I watch as he slowly shifts his gray tie back into place. It is borderline erotic somehow.

"Are you colleagues on the student paper?" Mr. Grey says. I clear my throat and remove my eyes from the knot around his neck; they land instead back on the view behind him. It looks like rain is upon the horizon.

"No. I'm her roommate. I was meant to be waiting out there." I gesture with my head towards the door. The sound of him tapping his desk travels to my ears.

"Before you walked, or more accurately fell, into my office did you have any idea who I was?" Mr. Grey says. I can feel my face flush as I remember earlier. Mortified doesn't even begin to cover it. I make myself meet his gaze. No, Mr. Grey I did not. Nothing could have prepared me for you.

"Should I have?" My voice comes out strained, the question not even clear in my mind. He answers with a smirk, which is completely disarming and boyish. It does things to my body; it does things to my thoughts.

"No, I suppose not Miss Steele." He moves from his place leaning on the desk and before I know it he is sitting beside me, taking up Kate's position. "Did you want to continue with the interview for Miss Kavanagh?"

I drop my gaze to the hands in my lap, which are holding the list of questions Kate spent so long preparing. To say I didn't want to continue wouldn't be true, but the interview wasn't what I had in mind. My heart rate has increased tenfold since he joined me on the couch; I cannot work out why he has such an unnerving effect on me.

"Or, Miss Steele, did you want to tell me about yourself?" He says as he shifts his tie again, unbuttoning his jacket.

"Like to control the narrative Mr. Grey?" Apparently, having him this close to me has blocked my ability to filter my thoughts before speaking.

"Oh, I exercise control in all things Miss Steele," he says without a trace of humor in his voice.

When I look at him, he is once again staring at me. I can feel my skin flame under his gaze and without thought I feel my thighs press together. There is a sudden and minuscule upturn to his lips. As our eyes lock, I only just register the large drops of rain hitting the window beside us. The intensity grows until I don't know how much longer I can bare it.

There is soft knock on the door. Mr. Grey's eyes never leave mine. "Come in." He says. His voice is low, yet still powerful enough to carry. From the corner of my eye, I can see Blonde Number Two walking into the office.

"Miss Kavanagh is quite unwell, Mr. Grey. We have had someone assist her to her vehicle." I feel the worry seep into my expression, my desire to get to Kate finally allowing me to break the eye contact making my body squirm.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Grey." I almost whisper, saying what I know Kate would want as I begin to shove whatever I can into my messenger bag.

"The pleasure's been all mine," he says. The polite tone in place, the moment passed. As Blonde Number Two exits the room, we both stand. I go to follow her out, when he holds out his hand. Right, business. The second our hands touch, a shiver this time travels through my entire body. Mr. Grey seems to caress my hand instead of shake it. At least that is how his hand pressed into mine felt.

He moves with lithe athletic grace in front of me and opens the door wide, really too wide for just myself. I throw a questioning look back at him; a smile that would make Adonis look like a troll spreads across his face.

"Just ensuring you make safe passage through the door Miss Steele." He says, the smile unmoved from his features. I blush. Again. All fours and in a dress; what I show I must have been.

"How very considerate Mr. Grey," I say. I try to keep my tone polite but I think it sounded more sarcastic then intended, which elicits a chuckle from Mr. Grey. I am surprised when he follows me out of his office and walks with me over to the elevator, pressing the down button before I can get a chance. As the doors open, he turns to face me.

"Until we meet again," he says. It sounds like a promise, a challenge and a threat all rolled into one; it makes me shiver in that delicious kind of way again. I could get addicted to that.

I hurry into the elevator, desperate to escape; I am unsure of what has come over me. When I turn to face the front of the elevator, he is once again looking at me. With one hand on the wall leaning against the doorway, he makes searing eye contact with me for the last time during today's exchange.

"Anastasia," he all but whispers.

"Christian," I say as the doors, mercifully, close.

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Author's Note:

I wrote this first chapter a few years ago now, probably around the time Fifty Shades of Grey came out. When Fifty Shades Freed came out this year, I had an urge to 'go back to the start'. Think of it as a nostalgia story, a what 'if'. It will follow pretty closely to the original novels until it takes a sharp turn in a different direction. However as I do not want to rely on any assumed knowledge from the books, I have started from the very beginning. It is and will be different, which is evident from this first chapter.

I would like to acknowledge E. L. James; hoping she does not mind us playing with her characters a little bit. Taking into consideration their humble beginnings, I do not think she would. All elements of the books remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	2. Chapter Two - Dark Copper And Light Gray

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

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Chapter Two - Dark Copper And Light Gray

The welcoming outskirts of Portland come into view. Glancing at the time on the dash, I wonder to myself if Voodoo Doughnuts is still open. The magic is in the hole after all. This late in the day I doubt if anything is left anyway, not that I deserve doughnuts. Due to Kate and her powers of persuasion, I am an entire day behind in my studies.

Kate has been asleep in the backseat for miles, so I barely register her phone's email alert tone as it goes off behind me. Instead I am focused on the traffic building around me as I head towards our apartment complex. I am honestly going to miss that little place when we move next month. All my happiest memories during the last four years have occurred there.

"Shit Ana, what did you say to Grey when I left?" Kate's question floats into the front and I swivel slightly in my seat. Kate is sitting up now, eyes glued to her phone. Her face is lit up by the glow of her screen, her features engaged with what is in front of her. Turning back to the road, I see our shared driveway up ahead. Pulling into Kate's spot, putting the Mercedes into park, I fully turn in the seat to face her.

"Huh?" I say, more like murmur. Kate flashes her phone in my face. All I read is the first line, Dear Miss Katherine Kavanagh, before Kate is turning the phone back towards herself.

"I think he answered every question. You are a goddess." Kate still looks horrid, but a smile was returning to her beautiful face. I swallow my question, the what the fuck are you talking about question, instead I simply nod and return the smile. I must have left the questions behind, but I wonder to myself why he has taken the extra time to answer them.

"Feeling better then I suppose," I say as I begin to gather all our collective stuff from the front passenger seat. Kate, who was still immersed in her phone, nods ever so slightly and looks at me.

"Don't think I will ever get over the embarrassment of vomiting my way out of an interview with the most famous bachelor in Washington State. But I do feel all the better for it." I suppress a groan while I exit the car, walking around to Kate and opening her door.

"Would never have happened," I say, muttering playfully while helping her out of the car, her arms weakly holding on for support.

"I know, if I had listened to you." She smiles shyly as we head up the steps to our apartment.

I balance all of our belongings into one hand, both my messenger bag and Kate's bag on my shoulder, and unlock the front door. I let it swing open as I try to regain my grip on the keys, the thought of how this mirrors an earlier event from today not even registering; apart from my subconscious extra effort to remain upright. Kate is leaning on the front porch railing, her eyes once again glued to her phone. I can already see the wheels turning in her head.

The satisfaction as I drop everything onto the couch is instant; rolling my shoulders, I feel better now I am home. This has been one weird and stressful day. Kate strolls in quietly behind me; taking one heel off at a time and leaving them by the front door, which she locks. I admire her as she has accomplished all of this while still looking at her phone.

"I am going to go change into my sweats, then I'll cook dinner okay?" I say as I grab my two novels and phone from my bag. Kate mumbles something incoherent, which I take to be a yes.

My room is just the same as when I left it in a hurry a few hours earlier. I gently place my books on the bedside table and check my phone while plugging it in to charge. There are two missed calls, and I play the messages on speaker while I get changed.

"You have two new messages." My phone chirps. The plum dress of Kate's while sophisticated is not comfortable in the slightest. Thankfully I don't have any trouble getting the zipper down, letting it pool on the floor. I reach into the cupboard for my change of clothes.

"Message One: Hi Annie," I hear my father's voice come through my phone. Father in every sense of the word, besides DNA. "Just your Dad here, checking in. Study good. Love you." I smile to myself. Him and Kate are two of the best things in my life; I cherish both of them. I will have to call him later.

"Message Two: I have news. Can't tell you in a message." Jose's smooth tone hits my ears, I can tell he is excited because his accent is thicker than normal. I have been bugging him for three years, since we meet, to teach me Spanish with zero results. "Call me back mi amor."

Now dressed in my favorite sweats, complete with bleach stains, I pick up the phone and pull it back out from the charger. So much for that. I hit Jose's number and listen to the dial tone. I know his news is going to be good news, it always is with Jose.

"Ana, mi amor," Jose answers the phone. His voice is low, his nickname for me a constant reminder of the unspoken question in our friendship. "Where is Kate?"

"Brain deep in a new story. What is your news?" I say. I am carefully hanging up the plum dress with the phone tucked between my shoulder and head. Kate has always asked that I respect her clothes like I respect my books.

"No, find Kate and put me on speaker." Suddenly his voice is dancing with excitement once more. I roll my eyes, he should have been a drama major. He is so theatrical sometimes.

"Fine," I sigh dramatically. I hear his throaty chuckle in response. Heading out to the lounge room, I find Kate wrapped in a fluffy blanket typing on her laptop at the dining table. I place the phone beside her and hit the speaker. Kate raises an eyebrow and her typing speed slows.

"She there?" Jose says after a few seconds. I wonder if he could hear her typing.

"Jose?" She says as she hits a full stop and looks up at me. I smile, which Kate returns.

"Prepare yourselves." Jose says, barely containing himself. "Ready?"

"Yes," Kate and I happily yell in unison.

"The Portland Place Gallery is going to do an exhibit of my photos!" He all but shouts into the phone at us.

The excited squeals continue for a few minutes, along with Kate and I promising to attend the opening night. In true Jose fashion, he signs off by telling us that he is currently in the library with his study group and couldn't talk. I am confident he is the librarian's favorite student.

"I was sure he was going to tell us he was kicked out of school," I laugh once he has hung up. I am so proud of my friend, such a talented man, even if he wasn't a dedicated student.

"To be honest, he is one the tamest students in the engineering program," Kate says in response, laughing as well. "Good for him though, I should include that in the student paper."

"He would be all over that." Jose's first passion was photography and he has told me more than once that his first passion helps him with his second passion, the ladies. "How is the article coming?" Kate returns her gaze to the laptop.

"Interesting. But then again, it helps that the subject is pretty interesting." I watch as Kate hits save on her work. "I would love to have done some follow up questions about his adoption at the age of four, and how that affects him now. That was the main question his email answers glazed over." Kate is in the zone, and I know she has her journalist hat on.

Mr. Grey being adopted is new information though. I wonder if Kate would let me look at his email. I barely looked at the question list of Kate's, but knowing her it will have had some personal questions on it. Especially if her attitude on his adoption is anything to go on.

Suddenly I ask myself why I even want to know. The reason is something I cannot admit to myself just yet however. My mind briefly wanders back to earlier today. I will never know what would have happened if we hadn't been interrupted. That is most definitely not a good thing, it is giving my imagination too much to do.

"Guess I would be private about that too," I say. Getting interviewed seems like such a transaction, but I suppose it comes with the territory. Poor Mr. Grey.

"You are right," Kate sighs. "I am not writing a personal piece, so I should be happy he was very expansive about the investment in farming technologies." My ears prick up, Kate didn't tell me much about Mr. Grey's company but I thought it was something in telecommunications.

"Is that something to do with him being a benefactor for our university?" I internally scold myself. Even to my own ears, I seem overly interested in Kate's article. Special circumstances though since I was present for more of the interview than Kate. It has nothing to do with Mr. Grey and his commanding presence. Yeah right, Steele.

"Yes and he even gave me a great quote to use, something about not being able to eat money." An unguarded giggle escapes my lips and my hand flies to my mouth. Kate doesn't notice.

"I cannot believe how young he is," I quickly say. That ought to distract her.

"Twenty-seven years old and a billionaire. Unconfirmed bachelor, never even been photographed with a woman. I had always wondered if he was gay." Only Kate could say something quite like that. I am pretty sure she missed sensitivity day at university.

"And on that note, I am going to start dinner and then get back to my studies." Picking up my phone, which I am proud to say I haven't broken in four years, I slip it into my back pocket.

"What did you think of him?" Kate's eyes never leave the screen in front of her, so I know she has missed the blush I can feel spreading across my cheeks.

"He seems reserved, yet there is something else going on there." I pause. Fiddling with me sleeve, I try to gather my thoughts. "Something deeper, something interesting." My voice is only just above a whisper.

"Anastasia Steele found a man interesting. Well I'll be," Kate smirks at me. I can see her brain working behind her clever eyes.

"So, shall I remind you about how quickly you ran out of his office?" At this point I would try anything to avoid the line of questioning I know will come if I don't strike first.

"Only if you want to re-live the moment of being on all fours in front of Mr. Interesting." Kate suddenly doesn't show any signs of being sick, her smile doubling in size as I instantaneously turn possibly the brightest red I have ever been.

Somehow I had repressed that moment, what with worrying about Kate and Mr. Grey's possessive eyes. Spinning around I walk into the kitchen; moving so fast I feel dizzy. Unfortunately I can still hear Kate's next line.

"Or maybe you do, I still don't know what it is you are into," Kate says between chuckles.

Dragging the ingredients for dinner out of the fridge, I leave Kate to laugh on her own; she hadn't started it after all. I have achieved the misdirect I was after. Even if I have inadvertently put some disturbing images into my head. Or maybe they aren't disturbing if I am being honest. Maybe they are something else entirely.

While the chicken and pasta becomes dinner slowly in front of me, I focus on not burning myself. As I often do while cooking, I slip on my headphones. It drowns out Kate's rhythmic typing and all the thoughts that are threatening to consume me. It is both relaxing and cleansing.

In the coming days I will not let myself get distracted, I have far too much studying to do. The drive back from Seattle had been bad enough. With Kate asleep for miles on the way back to Portland, there had been nothing to stop my entire mind from being consumed with thoughts of Mr. Christian Grey. Those beguiling eyes, that mouth, how running my hands through his dark copper colored hair would feel, everything about him. I am frightened by how bewitched I am by him.

Once I am satisfied with my culinary creation, I carry out a heaped bowl of food to Kate. Stealing a glance at her laptop screen, I see that the article appears to be taking shape. My roommate seems to be consumed herself by a certain C.E.O., but at least she has a valid reason.

"I would have made soup to make you feel better, but I really need to hit the market." I say as I place the bowl beside the keyboard. That is when Kate minimizes the document she was typing in, revealing the Google Search behind it. Mr. Grey does Google Images. Oh my. Even in a photograph, his light gray eyes burn right into my soul. An involuntary shiver plays fiddle with my nerves, making my stomach flip.

"This is my favorite anyway," Kate says as she grabs her dinner, completely ignoring my fixed gaze on her laptop screen as she closes its lid. "Too bad I was in such a bad way; I was going to hit him up for some original photographs for the article." She sounds disappointed, even with chicken pasta in her mouth.

"You could always reply to that email he sent you and ask." I offer, sensing that she will let this get to her. It isn't an excuse to see him again, I tell myself. There really wouldn't be a reason for me to come even if Kate could manage it. Even if I am dying to know if this was a lingering obsession or just a product of the situation this morning; all high powered C.E.O., domineering personality and the like getting into my head.

"Nah, not really how it is done with a guy like him," Kate says in between mouthfuls. "Speaking of the email, I am grateful and also mortified about you giving him that list of questions."

"What do you mean?" I hear myself ask as I go to retrieve my own dinner from the kitchen. I am not entirely paying attention. I am haunted by those gray eyes in my mind. Sitting next to Kate, I start eating while coming to the conclusion that my brain is possessed by a demon. It seems out of my control.

"Grateful because we would have basically had nothing for the article that was new without them." Kate sighs but continues. "Mortified because that is a classic fail in journalism. It lets the interviewee control the flow of information; control the response in a less candid way then direct questioning."

"Well, he did tell me he likes to exercise control in all things." I try to suppress the shiver that again threatens to run though my body at the memory of that moment. I fail.

"At least the answers weren't overly PR'ed I suppose. It really does seem like he wrote them himself." She has stopped eating; instead she is pushing her food around in the bowl.

"That is something I suppose." I read the news. I do not have any idea about what goes into making the news. "It will be what you make it Kate."

"I am counting on it being good. You have no idea how much it will help my portfolio." She is right, I don't.

"And being editor of the student newspaper helps right?" She looks up at me then, the wicked smile on her face making her crazy beautiful.

"Helps me cherry pick the best stories too," she says. Her laugh is music to my ears and I join her in it.

"That is my best friend ladies and gentlemen." I mock bow my head, while gesturing my right hand towards Kate in joking reverence. Her giggles taper off and she fixes me with a serious stare.

"Thanks Ana. I don't know what I would do without you." The day has made Kate's vulnerable side show. I wish I had been more convincing and gotten her to stay home. "You are my personal cheerleader."

"Then where are my pom poms?" I shrug and then we are laughing again. To be young and free, I am going to miss this.

Kate and I fall into a comfortable silence. I push aside my thoughts of a certain C.E.O. and concentrate on the work ahead of me. It is beginning to hit me that these are the last few days of my academic life. I am not sure I am ready for the world outside the sheltered life I have led here. There is no room for mistakes, the pressure is high stakes. All I can do is focus on getting through though; I will have to worry about the rest of it later.

Once dinner is done, I head back into the kitchen to clean up. It was decided between Kate and I long ago that the kitchen was mine. She more than makes up for it doing other chores. Teamwork really made living together a happier environment; without it we would not have become and remained best friends. Just as I am finishing up, Kate pokes her head in.

"Do you need to use the bathroom Ana? I am going to take a bath and try to relax a little." She looks both better and worse at the time. I think she will be on the road to recovery very soon. A day too late for her professional confidence; a day too late for my sanity.

"I am all good, make sure you use the good bath salts." I smile at her as I place the bowls away into the cupboard.

"Thanks Ana, you are the best," she says and heads off down the hallway. I hear the bathroom door shut and the water start to run.

With nothing left for me to do tonight beside study, I check the time. Still early enough to give Ray a quick call. Doing a last check of the kitchen and grabbing my bag from the lounge room, I head into my bedroom and close the door behind me. As I flop onto the bed, I have already hit Ray's number on my phone. He answers on the second ring.

"Annie," he sounds distracted. The baseball must be on.

"Hey, Dad." I pull open my bag and find my finals notes. I am really behind. "What game is on?" We spend the next few blissful minutes discussing the baseball game, Ray's latest carpentry project, and then as it usually does, the conversation works its way around to my mother.

"You really should give your Mother a call Annie." I have his full attention now, must be between innings.

"I tried a couple of times last week but with her new husband we have been missing each other." Bob, Husband Number Four, I think I like him. He appears to make Mom happy.

"She emailed me the other day. She misses you." Ray always the straight shooter, I can tell he is holding something back.

"Okay, I promise to call her right after we say good night." I idly wonder what it is he isn't telling me.

"Well in that case Annie, good night," Ray says. "Remember to send me the details for graduation. Love you."

"Love you more, good night." I keep my promise and call Mom; once again leaving her a voicemail. It feels like such a long time since we talked, when really she and Bob have only been on holidays for such a short time. At least they will be home for my graduation.

With daughter duty done for the day, I set my phone back on the charge at last. It is still early enough that I can get a couple hours of study and essay writing in. At least I can salvage some of the day by burning the midnight oil. University students do some of their best work after the rest of the world is asleep. Immersing myself into the multiple romantic worlds of English Literature, I let everything else fade away.

When I emerge from my work after the night has changed into early the next day, Kate has disappeared into her own room. I smile as I prepare myself for bed. Somehow the day and its strange affairs haven't distracted me while I studied. Alas the day's events follow me into my dreams instead. I am powerless to stop my treacherous subconscious mind from conjuring them. I am surrounded by glass, sandstone, leather; all I could see was dark copper and light gray.

* * *

Author's Note:

With Chapter Two done and dusted, I would like to thank everyone who either Favorited, Followed or Reviewed after Chapter One. I am touched that a few also added me to their Favorite Author or their Author Alert Lists. This chapter is for all of you!

Chapter One has undergone some minor editing, just a few oxford commas and the like. It is still by no means close to perfect, but even I cannot tell the difference really. Also, I fixed a homophone that a guest viewer was kind enough to point out. I am my own beta, so some things will get through. I try my best and while there is a certain 'stiff peak' of Christian's that Anastasia would like to mount, she of course was taking a 'peek'.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	3. Chapter Three - I Thought That Was You

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Three - I Thought That Was You

The following week went by without incident. Looking back, I guess, I could say that was the last normal week of my young life. I passed the time studying for finals, finishing up last essays and in a fair amount of stress. Kate and I hardly saw each other, leaving notes on the fridge was our main source of communication.

I spent most of my time on campus, which is where I find myself now. I can hear people whispering as I walk down the hallway. It is unusual to say the least, yet I wasn't really paying it too much attention. The weight of the books I am carrying taking precedence over whatever is causing the university's hallways to be overcome by a spurious silence.

That was true until, catching me by surprise, I tripped on an abandoned pencil. The cherished books and research went in every direction. By some miracle I manage to stay upright. I swear to whatever higher power there is, I am not really this clumsy. With a sigh, I drop my messenger bag onto the ground and begin to bend over to retrieve my belongings.

"I thought that was you," comes from beside me. It is a voice I still hear in my dreams even a week on from our meeting; in my awkward half bent position I turn my body to the sound. Christian Grey is standing in the middle of the chaos that is my end of degree research.

"What the?" I catch myself with the f on my lips and stand back up. "Why are you here?" The earlier unusual behavior by my fellow students makes much more sense now. How often is Christian Fucking Grey just walking past as you head to class?

"Just looking in on some of my projects," he says. He seems not to notice, or seems not to care about, the stares he is getting as he bends down himself and starts to pick up some of my things. I join him, unable and unwilling to talk.

He is still in a suit today but the tie is missing, leaving his top button undone. If this is casual Christian, I am beyond impressed. I will need to watch myself, because during the past week in my head he has gone from Mr. Grey to Christian.

Our hands touch as he helps me and I try, and once again fail, to ignore the spark that travels through my entire body. As he adds the last remaining book to the stack he is holding, we both stand. Shifting what I am holding to one hand, I hold out the other. When he doesn't hand over my things but instead uses his long arm to reach down and grab my bag by the strap, I raise an eyebrow in silent question.

"Which way are you heading?" comes his alluring verbal reply as he slips my bag onto his shoulder. Still finding myself unable to vocalize, I simply gesture with my head in the direction of the parking lot.

We fall into step beside one another. It is oddly domestic, almost chivalrous, of him to be carrying my books; I didn't really pick him as the book carrying type. My worn copy of 'Tess' looks at home tucked neatly under his arm. Looking straight ahead, I try to slow my breathing. It is not working. How is this even happening?

"How is Miss Kavanagh?" He says, interrupting my thoughts of him. As I look around to him, and our eyes lock, I finally find my voice. Kate seems like a safe enough topic of conversation.

"Better," I get out. "Much better, thanks for asking."

"Your visit sure left an impression." I can feel the heat rising up my neck and onto my face. I turn my gaze back to the path ahead of me. Already embarrassed enough, the last thing I need is to trip again.

"Your answers sure left an impression on Kate. Thanks for being so kind Mr. Grey." I almost say Christian, but I pull myself up just in time.

"Is that what I was being?" He says. "Kind?" I risk another look at him, but I cannot decipher the look in his eyes so I quickly look away.

"To me," I say lowering my voice. "To us." He doesn't respond to that, not verbally at least. When I glance at him again there is only one word to describe him; lost.

Surely I am about to wake up. This couldn't really be happening. Christian Grey didn't belong to the world of classroom hallways and G.P.A.s. He belonged to the world of boardrooms and C.E.O.s. Of course I know he is real, but at times I find even that hard to believe. I would pinch myself if it wouldn't make me feel even stupider.

"How have you been?" His voice breaks the silence after a few seconds. He is looking ahead, walking beside me while following my nonverbal directions. I pause and ask myself a safe way to answer his question.

"Stressed. End of degree finals are slowing killing me." That and I cannot sleep any more. I am haunted by your eyes in my dreams, other parts of you too.

"You shouldn't push yourself too hard Miss Steele." His voice is stern, commanding.

I want to tell him to call me Ana, but what reason do I have. We are not friends. We do not even know each other. Finally letting the nervous energy get the better of me, I bite my lower lip. It is the only release I have in the moment. I hear his intake of breath beside me. It is subtle but we are walking quite close together.

Seeing the parking lot ahead of me I start to relax, if only a little. There aren't too many cars around, it is the middle of the day and most people are off campus at this time of year. Wanda, the pale blue vintage VW Beatle I own, is waiting there for me on the other side of the lot. I snagged a spot under a tree early this morning.

"This is me," I say when I come to a stop beside Wanda. The look on his face when he realizes this is my car is almost worth the embarrassment I feel being in his presence.

"Surely not Anastasia?" Anastasia now is it? Let me test this.

"Surely is Christian," I say. The look he gives me stops me dead. There is so much behind his eyes. I feel both like a troublesome child and a streetwalker simultaneously. I cannot tell if he wants to punish me or something much more dangerous. Every muscle in my body clenches, every delicious muscle.

"Keys?" Christian says as he clears his throat. I hand them over, wondering to myself what has just happened. If my heart rate picks up any more, I am in danger of heart failure.

I watch, not trusting myself to move, as he unlocks the door and places what he is carrying onto the passenger seat. When he looks at me expectantly, I reluctantly walk over and stack my lot in as well. He is holding the door open, which causes my back to brush his arm when I step back; yet he doesn't move away.

Taking a few steps to the side I watch as he removes my bag from his shoulder, places it neatly into the car and closes the door. I am not sure what he is waiting for, but he doesn't make any motions towards leaving. Reading books comes naturally to me, not reading social ques.

"Well back to the salt mines with me," I say, biting my lower lip again when his throaty chuckle meets my ears.

I turn to head over to the driver side but Christian darts in front of me, unlocking and holding the door open. I brush past him, making slight contact again as I get into the car. Not being a scientist I don't know much about electricity, but I swear it is crackling in the air around us. I grip the steering wheel, needing something to hold onto as I take in a necessary breath.

"Cannot wait to read the article Miss Steele," Christian says as he closes the door and bends down so we are again at eye level.

"Me too, Kate is really happy with it besides the photographs." I turn my head so I am facing him. Could he be more beautiful? This close I think he just might be.

"Photographs?" He adorably cocks his head to one side, causing his tousled hair to move ever so slightly. Maybe if he was dumb I could get over this overwhelming and undeniable attraction? I am sure that he has a fault, I am just not seeing it.

"She is having a bit of trouble clearing one of you, is all." Kate is still upset about it to be honest, but I won't tell him that.

"Would she be interested in taking some originals?" My heart stops. What is happening right now?

"She would love that," I breathe out. A gush of wind spreads though the parking lot and I get a whiff of his uniquely Christian scent. My grip on the steering wheel tightens.

"I have some time tomorrow," he says with a nonchalant shrug of his perfect shoulders. Is he saying what I think he is saying?

Before I can speak he is reaching into his coat's inner pocket, pulling out a business car and pen. He stands up and places the card on the top of my car I presume, giving me an unguarded sight of his midsection. Any longer in his presence and I am going to flat line.

I quickly look down when he bends back over and passes the card to me as he puts the pen back away with his other hand. There is a cell phone number on the back of the card; a handwritten number. His handwriting is so poised.

"Call me tonight," he says with a smirk and his head cocked to the side again. "Set something up for tomorrow afternoon." Kate is going to flip. I tuck the business card into my back pocket.

"Okay." My voice sounds so breathy. Damn I hate being a girl sometimes.

"Now give me a chance to step back, I don't want this thing blowing the both of us up." The humor in his voice has an edge to it, a barely concealed concern to his mocking; a imperious overture to his joke.

He straightens up and takes a few steps back. It is only then I notice the shiny black Escalade parked at the end of the lot, a man in a straight black suit and crisp white shirt is standing erect next to it. I watch Christian in my rearview mirror as I drive way. Even under the shade of the huge oak tree his eyes still sparkle.

I am almost home again before my breathing returns to normal. Shifting around in my seat, I fail to ease my tense muscles. Every part of my body feels wound up and I don't know how to relieve the tension. Despite the distance I can still feel my heart unnaturally thumping in my chest.

As I pull into my parking spot I notice Kate's car is surprisingly here too. I can hear her study playlist running through the apartment as I enter. Her bedroom door is shut so I head to my own. Pulling out my copy of 'Tess', I look at it like the traitor it is. Somehow it looks different than it did before, after having been in Christian's arms. Listen to me, jealous of a book. I need professional help.

"Ana, is that you home?" I hear Kate yell through the wall. Heading back out into the lounge room I find her doing the same from her room. "I've missed you girl," she says.

"Cannot believe this is the last year." Kate nods at me and we share a wistful smile. "You'll never guess who I saw on the campus today," I say to change the mood.

"Christian Grey." Her reply is matter of fact. I must have forgot for a moment just who my roommate is.

"How the hell," but I am cut off before I can finish asking my question.

"It is trending Ana, you really need a smart phone." Kate rolls her eyes at me.

I pull my poor phone out of my back pocket where it practically lives. Christian's business card comes out with it. I hold the card out to Kate, who bends over to look. She quickly snatches it from my hand when she reads whose it is. Now it is her turn to ask the question.

"How the hell did you get this?" She says. Her intelligent eyes search my face as though the answer is branded onto me.

"I told you I saw him. He witnessed me in a rather clumsy moment." I feel myself flush. At least I wasn't on all fours this time.

"Maybe it is him who makes you clumsy?" You have no idea how right you are there Kate. I simply shrug my shoulders. It is only then she turns the card over. Her eyes nearly bug out of her skull. "Is that his private cell number?"

"I think so," I say, once again shrugging my shoulders.

"So, is there a reason he gave you his card and his cell number?" Her eyes are scrutinizing me. To be a mind reader would be great sometimes; who knows what she is thinking.

"Get ready to love me," I smirk. This is going to earn me so many brownie points.

"Ana, I have loved you since freshmen year when you slapped Trent McCracken for cheating on me with that hoe Beth Holiday." We both laugh at the memory.

"This is better," I say, pausing for effect. She looks at me expectantly. It is never a good idea to leave Kate waiting too long. "I mentioned you didn't have a photograph."

"No," she says, her tone going up an octave in her excitement. We have been friends for so long I think she can guess what I am about to say. I anxiously shuffle from one foot to the other; the smile on my face is almost cheek splitting in its size.

"Yup, and he said we could arrange a photo shoot with him tomorrow." Kate squeals in a very un-Kate like way and pulls me in for a hug.

"Hence the business card," she says as she steps back to examine the card. "Wait, what exactly did he say to you?

"Call me tonight." I repeat Christian's words from earlier. It isn't like I have replayed them over and over in my head during the drive home. Okay, perhaps a few times.

"Not get Kate to call me tonight?" Kate raises one of her perfectly tweezed eyebrows at me. Now where is she going with this?

"No Kate, he didn't." She wolfishly grins at me. Darn, I sense she has just won an argument I didn't even know we were having. Fuck.

"Well, there you have it." She hands me back the card. "It is night, so get calling."

"It is hardly night," I mumble. Looking down at the card and at the cell number, I feel my stomach drop.

"You don't want to call too late Ana, manners and all. It is courtesy to give him as much notice as we can, he might need to reschedule stuff." There is no way I am going to tell Kate he said he was free for the afternoon. Who knows what will happen.

"True, but," I try to say looking back at Kate.

"Plus he gave you the card; maybe he wants you personally to have his personal number." Kate stresses the words personally and personal. I think she is trying to tell me something and I don't like it. Or I like it a little too much. I am not sure which.

"Why would he want me to have his personal number?" I too add extra emphasis on the word personal. Kate looks at me like I am an idiot.

"Why do you think," she pauses and I let my eyes drop to the card once more. "He is hot for teacher."

"Oh please." I roll my eyes. Kate is deluded. Just a week ago Kate was telling me she thought Christian might be gay. Now he is lusting after a twenty-two year old literature student. Surely a billionaire can afford more expensive tastes.

"Why else would he seek you out?" Kate looks pointedly at me but I stare right back.

"He didn't seek me out." Without thinking I anxiously bite my lower lip. I am not even aware I am doing it again until a sharp bolt of pain hits me and I release.

"It is a big campus Ana, and his funding is for farming and technology. Why was he in the literature department?" I feel a tiny amount of hope spark within me. Darn Kate and her deductive powers in human interaction.

"Moving on, when am I setting this photo shoot up for? Where? Details Kate," I say, resigning myself to the fact that I will be making the phone call. I also need to stop talking about Christian in a manner that might give me more to fantasize about.

"Let him decide the when, I can work out the where later," she says shaking it off with a wave of her hand. I start to enter the number into my phone to call but I stop and look at Kate."What?" she says earnestly.

"I'm not going to call with you just staring at me like that." No amount of effort would have kept the irritation out of my voice.

"Like what?" I can hear a fake shyness to her voice. Kate doesn't do real shyness, not that I have heard anyway.

"You know how." We stare at each other for a few breaths.

"Fine." She dramatically throws her hands into the air, goes into her bedroom and closes the door. "Better?" I hear from behind the wall separating us.

"Yes," I say back.

With Kate in the next room I try to take a deep breath to relax. I don't relax; if anything I am more tense, more nervous. I am a strong woman, how can it be possible that one man can affect me this completely. But is he really just a man? My ladies from English Literature really should have prepared me better for this.

I mentally slap myself. I am not this person. He does not scare me. If anything is scaring me right now, it is myself. Anastasia Rose Steele, you got this. Before my nerve deserts me again, I punch the number into my phone and hit dial. As the call connects I use all the strength within myself not to hit the end call button.

"Grey," I hear Christian say. His voice is unhurried, yet cold and clipped.

"Mr. Grey?" I am not even going to chance saying Christian over the phone. Inside I am quaking. "It's Anastasia Steele."

"Miss Steele, lovely to hear from you." The change in him is instantaneous. Suddenly his tone is warm, somehow seductive even over the phone. I wonder to myself if he was expecting this call or not.

"Kate, Miss Kavanagh, would love to go ahead with your offer for original photographs." I really wish Kate had made this call; my heart is pounding in my chest. "What would be convenient for you Sir?" Wait, when did I get to Sir? Am I that afraid of him and using his name? Possibly. Elizabeth Bennet would be so disappointed in me.

There is a pause on the other end of the line, dead silence. After a few seconds I pull the phone from my ear and check that the call is still connected. I subconsciously tighten my grip on the phone when I see the seconds ticking over on the duration count. Lifting the phone back up, I strain my hearing to try and pick up any sound.

"Mr. Grey?" I don't even recognize my own voice when I speak, desperate to break the silence.

"I will be on campus tomorrow afternoon around 2pm if she is interested in getting some action shots; I know how important context is for these articles." Once again his voice is changed. There is a harder quality to his voice; I feel that he is suppressing something. What is he holding back?

"Ac-action shots?" My voice stutters as I try to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Yes, photographs of myself visiting the team that received the bulk of my grant." At least there is humor in his voice again; even if that humor I suspect is directed squarely at me. "The grant that made them ask me to confer the degrees this year and send Miss Kavanagh my way for the interview that these photographs are for."

"Oh, okay." I see why that would be good for a photograph, much better than a studio shoot. "I will let Miss Kavanagh know of the time that suits you."

"I will be at the Science and Services building. I am sure she will know the campus better than me and will find something suitable for the photos." Even in full business mode I find him incredibly sexy, maybe more so.

"Well then, Good Night Mr. Grey." I go to end the call when I hear his voice.

"Will I see you there Anastasia?" Oh my, I love the way his voice caresses my name.

"Probably not," I say with a shaking voice. Never could I ask Kate if I could come. She would ask why and I would have to say it out loud. I would have to say I like him; I would have to admit to these foreign and dangerously consuming feelings.

"That is a shame Anastasia." Suppressing what I suspect would have sounded something like a moan, I feel my body respond in an unfamiliar fashion to his words and his tone; it is uncomfortably alert and aware of him.

"Yes it is Christian," I say and hang up. I know my limits and I can handle no more. Any more Christian today and I will be like Jell-o on the floor. Before I can think too much about the phone call I knock on Kate's door, which immediately springs open.

"All good?" Her eyes are shinning. It is all worth it to see her happy and maybe also to get to hear his voice again, even if I feel very nauseous.

"2pm, Science and Services building. He is meeting with the grant recipients." I guess he wasn't free all afternoon after all.

"Great, I can get some action shots." Am I the only one who doesn't know any of this stuff? "With that done, I am shouting you dinner. Just let me call my best photographer and see if he is free tomorrow at 2pm." Kate bounces off back into her bedroom.

The Chinese food Kate and I share is amazing. We watch crap TV and try to forget about study for an hour or so. It is just what I needed after today. As I lay my head down that night to go to sleep, I toggle through my phone. In an act I would later come to regret, I add Christian's number to my contacts list.

* * *

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed Chapter Three; I really enjoyed writing this one.

It is not hard to play spot the difference this chapter!

The current plan is to update once a week, Thursday/Friday depending on your timezone. However, I am currently toying with the idea of posting two chapters a week for the next couple of weeks. I need the extra motivation at the moment, because Christian just isn't doing what I tell him. Ever the dominant it would seem.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M. P.


	4. Chapter Four - Steele A Glance

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Four - Steele A Glance

I adore 'Tess of the d'Urbervilles', Hardy has a remarkable prose and I love the sweeping nature of the overall tale. However, there are a number of times I truly want to reach inside the pages and slap Tess upside the head. It is no wonder I continually let myself be enamored by Christian if the role model from one of my favorite books is so submissive towards men. Sure she sticks it to Alec in the end, but it is far too late by then.

This is what I have been reduced to. As I study the novel for my finals, I cannot help but relate everything to Christian. I must be over worked. A break is really all I require, surely. I head into the kitchen to grab a snack. Chocolate will help me get Christian out of my mind. It is however blocked from me by Kate, who is pacing back and forth in front of the cupboards.

"You okay," I say when she doesn't stop as I enter the room.

"No. I have the photo session you help set up and my photographer is freaking out." Pretty sure I didn't help set it up, I did set it up. I don't correct her however. It looks to me like she is the one in full freak out mode. "Levi has never taken photos of someone so famous before. He needs a little hand holding."

"I get that." I edge past her and locate the chocolate. "He is very intimidating."

"Can you help assist?" Kate says, finally stopping her pacing. The chocolate is forgotten. "It might help to have an extra person and make it less formal." Part of me wants to scream yes immediately. Isn't this what I wanted I ask for myself, more of him.

"What do I get out of it?" Besides having a dream come true in being given an excuse to ogle a man who has been invading my sleep like a warrior.

"My undying love?" I laugh at the puppy dog eyes she tries to give me. Kate doesn't plead well, she is better at demands.

"Kate, haven't I already got that?" She looks glumly towards the ground.

"Yes," she say softly. I am not this cruel, especially not towards my best friend.

"Fine." I roll my eyes, keeping my voice monotone. Kate looks up at me with a winning smile; she knew she had me at can you help. Man I love her.

Before I know it, Kate is ushering me to change out of my sweats and into my best jeans accompanied by a prettily patterned bohemian top. I follow her to campus in my car, picking up Levi and his equipment along the way; I don't see why we need to take two cars, I believe we could have gotten it all into Wanda plus the three of us. Kate has never really been a fan of Wanda though.

Luckily it is a bright day, giving Kate about a thousand ideas for photos. They are framing up a shot in front of the Science and Services building when I see him approaching from across the square. He is with another couple of people having an animated discussion, so he doesn't see me at first. Breaking the conversation to introduce a professor and his grad student to Kate and Levi, he looks around as they talk. That is when he makes eye contact with me.

I am standing further away then the group, near a garden with the sun shining from behind me. I see the realization on his face as our eyes lock. Yet today I think I must be feeling more confident. I don't look away from his gaze; I let him be the first to break the burning eye contact, which he does when someone starts talking directly to him. Small victory but a victory nonetheless.

Once again Christian is wearing a gray suit with gray tie and white shirt; he looks ever the C.E.O. and just as handsome as the day before. The professor, Mr. Lambert, leads us inside and shows us all a little of the research they are working on. Levi is snapping away on his camera as Christian and Mr. Lambert discuss a few of the finer points. He looks so vivacious as he talks with Mr. Lambert and Michael the grad student.

I wonder to myself why feeding the world's poor is so important to a man like Christian. I have learnt that the funding he has given to WSU is going predominately towards research into food sustainability in third world counties. His social responsibility only makes him more attractive, darn it. I am still searching for his big flaw.

When the professor and Michael make their exit, Kate steers Christian outside again where her and Levi have located the so called perfect shot. I watch Levi as he takes the shots, watching Christian more so, and think that this is exactly the break I needed from study. I now understand men's fascination with models. This just may be my new favorite past time.

"Steele, a glance at these shots would be appreciated." Levi says to me. I suddenly notice they have paused. Christian is smirking at me as he leans against a WSU sign. Blushing I walk over next to Levi.

"They aren't too staged?" Kate says, we are both looking over Levi's shoulder as he holds out the camera and toggles through the shots. "I need an untrained and impartial eye." Untrained, check. Impartial, probably not. He is a beautiful sight as I shamelessly look through the photos.

"No, they look very natural," I say. If natural means he is as hot as sin itself, than yes these are as natural as you can get.

"Thanks Ana," Kate nods at me.

"Yeah, thanks Ana," Levi says smiling at me. I haven't really done anything. Really I should be thanking them.

"Any time guys, you are really talented Levi." His smile widens, Kate just laughs.

"Don't let it get to your head," Kate says as she gestures towards the camera after smacking him lightly on the arm.

They start to walk away while discussing if they have enough photos, going over them again. Kate expects a lot from her staff, being the editor of the student paper. I just hope that once she starts a job outside of university she remembers she isn't the boss anymore. Chances are she will but chances of her changing are slim regardless.

I enjoy the sun beating down on me for a few more seconds before I stretch out my arms and take a deep breath. Looking around me I notice that Kate and Levi have left all manner of equipment around. I may as well actually help out somewhat. Starting to pack up some of Kate's things for her, I notice Christian walking towards my direction. I have an immediate and involuntary reaction as he draws near. My whole body catches fire, figuratively speaking anyway.

"I thought you weren't going to come today." He says as he comes to a stop beside me. He has a habit of standing too close to me, invading my space with his scent. It is intoxicating.

"Kate asked for my help." I shrug my shoulders as I place Kate's notebook back into her bag. She doesn't have a concept of packing light apparently, I think as I struggle with the zip.

"Is that the only reason?" I want to scream no but I don't. Instead I simply stop what I am doing. I can feel the electricity crackling through the air between us again. Does he feel it too or is it just my reaction to him?

"I needed a break from studying anyways." I try to weakly smile at Christian, feigning calm. I don't feel calm.

"You haven't been stressing yourself out too much I hope." His concern is evident in his voice, his eyebrows furrowing.

"I quit my part-time job leading into finals. Too much on my plate and I didn't spend four years of my life just to fall down at the last moment." I don't know why I feel the need to explain myself, yet I do.

"Smart move Anastasia," he says as I watch him slowly removing his tie. "Are you busy this afternoon?" He is now undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt. I bite my lip and look towards the ground. I really should be getting back to my studies I think to myself.

"No," is what I say. I think I have lost control of my mouth, this is not good.

"Would you like to get a coffee?" My head shoots up and he smiles. "I saw a coffee shop just around the corner." He cocks his head to the side in question. I really need him to stop doing that.

"Sure, I love coffee." Is he inviting all of us or just me? As he turns towards Kate and Levi I think I have my answer.

"Are we all good here?" Christian says, his voice carrying over to my friends. That didn't sound like an invitation. A spark runs through me.

"Yes, and thank you so much for helping us out again Mr. Grey." Kate says as she walks over and thrusts out her hand. Christian shakes it heartily and then does the same with Levi.

"Do you mind if I steal Anastasia for little while?" He is looking directly at Kate as he speaks. Kate looks at me. I think it is pride in her eyes I see as she wryly smiles.

"Should be fine, if she lets me and Levi take her car with all the equipment." Wow, she must be dead set on me going for coffee; Wanda is getting called up the majors. Guess it is a good thing we took two cars. I begin to nod in response.

"Your funeral," Christian says under his breath. I am the only one standing close enough to hear him; he smiles at me when I giggle. My god he is beautiful when he smiles.

"Sure," I say as I dig into my bag, still giggling slightly, and pull out my car keys. I exchange them for Kate's. "Do you need help loading?"

"Nah, we got this." Levi says with a wink.

"Yeah, you kids go have some fun." Kate smirks. I think this is the day she has been waiting for since we met; me too sister. With a wave of my hand, and a curt nod from Christian, we turn and head down the stone pathway.

It is almost a mirror of yesterday as Christian and I fall into step next to each other, except this time he is leading me. I can smell the roasting beans as we cross the road. When we reach the coffee shop, he puts his hand on the small of my back as he opens the door. It shoots tingles all through my body. He bends in close to my ear as we enter the shop. I shiver in response to his proximity.

"Why don't you grab a table and I'll order." His breath hits my ear, tickling it. All I can do is nod. I do not trust my voice. "What do you want?"

"Latte, please," I say. Darn my infernal breathy voice. His hand drops from my back and I immediately miss it.

Finding a table at the back, I watch as he progresses slowly through the line. I want to know why he has asked me here. This is my chance to find out if the enigmatic billionaire is really interested in the English Lit Major. It is also a chance for me to figure out what this bazaar power he has over me is. No man, no person, as ever affected me so keenly before.

I observe the young male cashier and Christian interact as he puts in our order. With an almost certainty I would bet he knows who Christian is. I get the feeling he will be telling his buddies a slightly altered version of these events. It surprises me that a billionaire has cash on hand though, I think as I watch him pay for the order. I turn in my seat as Christian finishes up at the counter, not wanting to get caught in the act of staring at him again.

He appears next to me spinning our order number between his two deft hands. Once he settles into the seat across from me, he gazes into my eyes. I wonder what he sees reflected back, because I see a Greek God like beauty sitting before me. The thing that really intrigues me right now however, is the mind behind those pensive gray eyes.

"So Miss Steele, where were you working?" I almost miss what he says. He is very distracting as he runs a finger along his bottom lip, causing me to bite mine.

"A little book store near our apartment," I say after a beat. "It was good because they were really flexible with the hours; student employees are common for them so they get it." That is another thing I will miss when I move. I loved that little place, loved the discount too; not sure how I will keep up with my book buying habit.

"And what are your plans for after you graduate? Anything lined up?" Ahh, the dreaded question for all soon to be graduates; the old what is next question haunts us all. He is patiently looking at me. It is then I remember that he himself is only twenty-seven.

"At the moment my only plan is to move to Seattle, Kate and I have already lined up a place there." I think, for a moment, I see an upturn of his lips.

"Where about?" His response comes quickly, if I didn't know any better I would have thought it came excitedly.

"Pike Place Market." I smile at him, his eyes shining with an unknown emotion.

Christian looks like he is about to say something when the waitress appears. She places my latte, a black coffee and to my surprise a blueberry muffin onto the table between us. She is flirty with the looks at Christian but he takes no notice. Instead he is shifting the latte to in front of me and pulling the black coffee towards himself, apparently completely oblivious of the waitress and her disappointed expression as she struts off.

I remind myself I have no claim on him but it feels good nonetheless. I shake my head as he offers me a sugar packet, making a note that he too doesn't add sugar. Despite the fact that his coffee must still be quite hot, he takes a sip. I look at my latte and mentally congratulate the barista on her beautiful coffee art but it is nowhere near as good as the shop near my apartment. That stuff should be in the Louvre.

"Do you have a boyfriend Anastasia?" Whoa there Mr. Grey, where did that come from? Guess he is the kind of man who gets straight to the point, which I should really have guessed by now.

"No," I say still staring into the depths of my latte. "Why?"

"Can't a man ask?" Looking up from the table, I stare into his waiting eyes.

"I man can," I pause and run my finger along the edge of my coffee cup. Feeling a blush spread across my cheeks, I take a deep breath.

"You seem nervous," Christian says. His expression is unreadable, which is infuriating.

"I find you intimidating." I blurt out. Shut it Steele. I must get my mouth and my brain under control.

"You should." He pushes the muffin towards me. "Eat."

"Not to mention high-handed." He smirks back at me.

"I'm used to getting my own way." I watch as he reaches down and picks up the muffin, taking a bite and placing it back on the plate. It does smell nice.

"That must get very boring." I mirror his action, involuntarily moaning softly as the muffin hits my taste buds. It doesn't escape my notice that he takes a sharp intake of breath.

"You like?" Christian says. I can tell he is controlling his voice. It sounds odd, almost mislaid, but very seductive.

"Very much so, I have been so busy I think I forgot to eat today." His expression darkens, a frown spreading across his handsome face.

"You should always eat Anastasia." Guess I'm in trouble. I shiver. Needing him to stop looking at me like that, I say the first thing that comes into my head.

"You can call me Ana, everybody does." I swallow as his frown turns into a smile.

"I'm not everybody Anastasia." I think I am okay with him calling me by my full name, it sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. However I am disappointed he hasn't said I can call him Christian yet.

"Tell me about your family?" He says suddenly. I am shocked. He is keeping me on edge, talking about one thing and then another before I can catch up. Due to my dating history I have no idea if this is normal or not; I think not.

"My family? Umm okay, my dad died when I was a baby. So I was raised by my step father Ray. He is amazing." I don't like talking about myself but I get the feeling he hates talking about himself more.

"And your mother?" He raises a single eyebrow, once again running a finger along his lips. He has very long fingers, I note in my head.

"Um, my mother is on husband number four. She is an incurable romantic." I smile to myself. I love my mother but her and I have very different ideas about love.

"Are you?" Christian says, dropping his hands to the table.

"Am I a romantic?" The look he gives me tells me that there is a right and a wrong answer to this question. He looks almost resigned to defeat somehow. "Well I study English Lit, so I kind of have to be."

For a few moments a silence takes over the table and I know that I have said the wrong thing. I don't understand what he has against romantics. There are a lot of different kinds. We aren't all the hearts and flowers type; most people have at least a small romantic streak. Taking a small sip of my drink, I remind myself not to be a 'Tess'. I push on, trying to ignore the sense of dread that threatens to overcome me.

"I thought the photo shoot went well," I say looking directly at him. "Kate seems really happy." I have the ability to change the subject too Mr. Grey.

"I can't do this," Christian says. The lost look from yesterday is back. This man is giving me whiplash.

"What?" I hear the disappointment dripping from my voice. I must stop wearing my heart on my sleeve.

"I should leave." The control he so cherishes has slipped back into place. He once again looks like his normal overbearing shelf. I am beginning to think that just might be his fault, his need for control.

"Fair enough Christian but at least don't let the food go to waste." I am shaking on the inside but I am fast coming to the realization that this may be the last time I will see him. I am not ready to see him go just yet.

I push the plate towards him and take a deep drink of my coffee this time. It really is quite delicious. He is intently staring at me, gripping the table tightly; it almost seems like he sees me as some kind of threat. For a moment I think he isn't going to stay, until he speaks.

"I hate to waste food Miss Steele." His voice is a touchstone of control.

It was an intense moment but it is the first time since I met Christian that I realize while he might be in control, I am not powerless. As he drinks some of his own coffee I sense he begins to relax, allowing us to fall into a semi comfortable silence.

Before too long the muffin is gone, mostly eaten by myself, and my almost finished latte's caffeine is starting to take effect on me. I marvel at how I am now able to relax even slightly in his daunting presence. All it took was for me to remember who I am. The hustle and bustle of the coffee shop buzzes in my ears and I smile at its normalcy.

"You are breathtaking when you smile Anastasia." So much for being able to relax. How could I when he says things like that. I thought he couldn't do this.

"Well I ought to be getting back to the books, first final is tomorrow," I say before I drain the rest of my coffee. "Thanks for the latte Mr. Grey." He does the same with his drink.

"My pleasure Miss Steele." We both stand but he waits until I leave the table before following.

Taking a cleansing breath once I am outside in the fresh air, I wait to cross the road back towards the parking lot. It is late afternoon now and the end of day rush is just starting. Watching the cross light change, I look both ways down the street. I am about to step off the side walk when I hear his harsh voice behind me.

"Watch it," Christian says as I suddenly feel his hand grab mine. About a millisecond later a cyclist whips past. I hadn't seen him but Christian had.

Somehow through his action of grabbing me, I have ended up pulled flush against him. Christian's eyes are searching my face, concern marring his perfect features. The adrenaline is running through my veins as I look up at him. I feel my eyelids flutter and I am staring at the lips which are only inches away from mine.

"I am not the man for you." He looks despondent. "You should steer clear of me." His words crush me but he makes no move to step away.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Why am I asking that? If the man doesn't want me that is his decision. "Is that it?"

"I don't do the girlfriend thing." His hand is caressing my face and I shudder as his thumb swipes along my bottom lip. "That is why I have to let you go." I see the resolve in his eyes as he lets his hand drop. Fine, have it your way.

"Goodbye Mr. Grey." I pull myself from his arms and walk away, not looking back even though I desperately want to get one last look at him.

As I seat myself behind the wheel of Kate's car, a tear threatens to fall from my eye. I quickly wipe it away; I will not let myself cry over this. I am not that girl. I cannot be that girl. I must look ahead to all the good things that await me. I have four finals between me and my graduation. There is no way that I am going to let Christian Grey take the shine off of my last few days of university life.

Once I am calm enough to drive, I am on my way home. Kate isn't there when I arrive and I assume she is still with Levi. They have so many photographs to go through, it will probably be a while before she puts in an appearance. Not letting the silence of the house get to me, I quickly shove my headphones on. I am studying within five minutes from when I turned the ignition off in Kate's car. Christian is gone, but sadly not forgotten.

* * *

Author's Note:

Here is Chapter Four!

I have altered Ana's love of Tea, making her a coffee lover. It just seems a shame to have someone who doesn't drink coffee live in Portland and Seattle. Almost a crime! Hopefully you can look past that!

I want to thank you all for the response from the last chapter! This is the end of July special chapter, just because you gave me the motivation!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	5. Chapter Five - This Is The End

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Five - This Is The End

I place my pen down and feel the smile spread across my face. This is the end. My academic career is finally over. Even better, I am pretty sure I just aced this final. Everything is coming up Anastasia. It is still five minutes until the end of exam, so I spend those five minutes just letting myself feel the moment.

Kate is waiting for me outside, her last final having finished about an hour before mine. She has a Cheshire Cat sized smile on her face, one that is mirrored by my own I am sure, and we embrace in a friendly hug. Making a dramatic action of it, we both tear up our notes and throw them into the rubbish bin, laughing the whole time.

"We are so partying tonight Ana," Kate practically sings on the way to her car.

"Who exactly did you invite tonight Katherine?" I mockingly put on a stern tone and place my hands on my hips but cannot keep the smile from my eyes.

"Levi, Jose, and I am sure a few others will be around." Kate is now publicly dancing, spinning around to face me and walking backwards a few paces ahead. If confidence had a human form, I am pretty sure it would look exactly the way Kate does now.

"Yeah, Jose the lucky devil finished his finals two days ago." Being the good friend he is, he has reminded me every chance he got too.

"But he has another year to go," Kate says with an evil smile. "We, my girl, are free." With that she falls back inline beside me, tossing an arm around my shoulder.

We sing loudly along to music as Kate drives home, continuing once back at our apartment. You can see evidence that packing has gradually been started, our move out imminent. I can still see us awake at all hours trying to finish though. Kate especially; she hasn't even started on her wardrobe and she has a lot of clothes, not to mention her shoes.

Despite most of our possessions being slightly displaced, I am attacked by Kate with the makeup and curling iron. Apparently I must look my best to get drunk off my face. I cannot see why. It will just be a group of friends and all we are doing is blowing of some much needed steam. While she isn't looking I wipe off some of the lip stain, or try to; wow that stuff works.

"How do I look?" Kate says as she sips some wine. She is all tiny white camisole, tight jeans and sky high heels. Her blonde locks are piled onto the top of her head in a messy but gorgeous bun.

"You look like Venus." It isn't any wonder men cannot resist her. The best thing though about Kate's beauty is that she doesn't let it define her; her wit and humor are truly my favorite things about her.

"Thank you," she says. "You look sexy too." I fiddle with the stem of my wine glass.

I am wearing black skinny jeans, but they aren't in the same league as Kate's. I have let her talk me into a cute mint green baby doll top that she has lent me for this evening, but I drew the line at the shoes. My blue converse chucks are proudly on my feet. They almost deserve my degree as much as I do. Seeing as they were with me the whole way, they should get to celebrate too.

"I should hope so," I say as I pull at my hair. "You spent enough time on me." I smirk. Kate has made my long hair into a curled piece of beauty. When I looked in the mirror before, even I had to admit I looked pretty.

"Some of my best work," Kate smiles as she playfully swats my hair from my shoulder.

"Forget journalism, you should be a stylist." We laugh and that is when there is a knock on the door. I raise an eyebrow at Kate as our laughing dies down.

"Cab is a bit early." Kate mumbles as she walks to the door. "They will just have to wait." She pulls the door open while I go into the kitchen to refill our wine glasses. About a minute later I hear her voice.

"'Why didn't you tell me there was danger'" She is standing at the kitchen door, reading from a small card. "'Why didn't you warn me?'" I don't need to read the card to know what is says.

"'Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these tricks.'" I finish the quote. "That is from 'Tess of the d'Urbervilles'." I walk over to where Kate is standing, my wine forgotten as I stare at the card which Kate hands me.

"And this is a very expensive bottle of champagne," Kate says. I hadn't even noticed that she was holding it. "Who would send this to you?" She is holding up the bottle and looking at the label.

"I recognize the writing," I murmur as I examine the card, turning it over I discover more writing. It reads 'Congratulations on getting through your finals ~ Christian.' I feel Kate come up behind me, looking over my shoulder at the note.

"Wow Grey," I can't tell what the inflection in Kate's voice is; but I don't think it is a happy one. I only gave her vague details of our kind of coffee date. She wasn't happy.

"How am I supposed to except this?" Here I was thinking that he had forgotten about me. I had been trying to forget about him, mostly succeeding. Kate walks over to the fridge and gently places the bottle inside.

"You can worry about it later," she says, her tone still guarded. She picks up her phone and checks the time. "We had better finish getting ready; the guys are meeting us there soon"

I am quiet during the cab drive. I cannot get Christian's note out of my head. I am pretty sure it is another attempt to warn me off, just like his actions a few days ago. Why though? If he doesn't want anything to do with me than he just needs to, as he said, let me go. I only met him less than two weeks ago, in the grand scheme of things we are nothing to each other. There is no way he could know the powerful effect he has on me.

The bar is loud when we arrive. It is a mess of bodies, drunken students and an overall happy atmosphere. There are still two days left of exams but most everyone here is done for the semester, or like me done forever. It is liberating and daunting all at the same time. Kate is served quickly at the bar, after a smile and a wink, and we are sitting down in no time.

"To the end of exams," she says raising her glass to me.

"To the end of university," I join my glass with hers.

"To freedom," We both say and giggle as we take long sips of our drinks. The wine from earlier is already working its way through my system.

"Dios mio, how much work do I have to catch up with you two?" Jose says as he appears next to us holding a pitcher of margaritas, which he plops onto the table and sits next to me.

"I think we have to catch up with you," Kate says as she leans over and hugs Jose. "You smell drunker than us."

Levi appears, camera in hand, and morphs into the table close to Kate. The two are chatting about something to do with the student paper, so I tune out and I drink whatever Kate has purchased. It doesn't taste too bad but that may be the wine talking. Jose pours four glasses of margaritas and hands them out. As he pushes mine toward me, he puts an arm around my midsection and draws me closer.

"What am I going to do without you next year mi amor?" he says. I can smell the alcohol coming off him; however the whole bar smells the same so I don't know the difference.

He leans in close to me, too close almost. Jose is an attractive man; with his Hispanic charm, tall frame, abs and fun attitude, he has he pick of women. Kate has been saying for three years that I just might be his pick but I feel only friendship. I love him, yet there is no desire for anything else between us.

"We will still see each other," I say. I wiggle out of his grasp and take a drink of my margarita. It is too sweet, too strong. I take another sip. "Plus Kate and I will be back to see your photography show."

"What am I doing?" Kate says. I notice how close Levi is sitting to Kate. Poor man, he doesn't realize Kate will eat him alive.

"Going to Jose's show," I say. I am talking too loud. Looking down I discover my margarita is almost gone. When did that happen?

"I am so excited for you man." Levi doesn't sound too excited. He must be beyond jealous. His chosen field is photo journalism so it must sting that Jose, an engineering major, is getting recognition.

"Thanks man," Jose says as he picks up the pitcher and refills everyone's glasses. Mine gets the most.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Jose?" I smirk at him. "Because I think it is working." We all raise a glass in silent cheers.

The music is slowly getting louder, more people are squeezing into the already packed bar. To be fair though, student bars are usually this full. Pretty quickly I lose count of how much I have had to drink. People come and go from our table. I am having a great time.

"Come dance mi amor," Jose whispers into my ear. I shake my head.

"I have to pee," I say, yelling. Kate laughs at me.

"Not so loud honey, toilets are back there." She points behind me. "When you get back we will all be dancing our asses off." She shimmies her shoulders and I laugh.

"Don't, I really have to pee," I say in between giggles.

"Don't take too long," Kate says, her voice singsong.

She quickly stands and heads out towards the dance floor, trailed closely behind by Levi. I shakily get to my feet. I grab onto the table with one hand. Whoa. Major Head Spin. I try to calculate my drinks number but the math makes my head spin worse.

"Need help?" Jose is hovering close to me.

"Nah, I'm good." I say and walk towards the back. Luckily he doesn't follow.

Of course there is a line. I stare longingly at the men's toilets, which is devoid of the queue. Taking my place at the back, I try to wait patiently. It works, for about a minute. The need for the bathroom increases until I cannot wait too much longer. I try to distract myself by pulling out my phone.

My phone will need to be updated soon. The screen is fizzy. Or maybe that is my drunken eyes. I cannot tell. I also cannot tell you how I ended up in contacts. I am hovering over the delete button, looking at Christian's number saved there. It is mocking me. I hit the call button instead.

"Anastasia?" He sounds confused, answering on the second ring. Maybe he was asleep; I don't even know what time it is. However he sounds too alert to have been asleep.

"How did you know it was me?" I say. My words come out slurred. I really shouldn't be doing this. I regret my actions even as I am making them.

"Caller ID. Where are you?" Now he sounds irritated.

"Oh, I'm in line 'cause I have to pee really bad." My filter is completely gone. I should just end the call now. Why am I calling again? I cannot remember.

"Anastasia, have you been drinking?" Oh, now he sounds anxious. Not having his handsome features in front of me lets me concentrate on his voice more. It takes me a moment to work out what he has said though. It annoys me. Why should I have to tell him I have been drinking? What is it to him?

"Yeah I have, Mr. Fancy Pants. But I am not the one sending alcohol to random people." I move forward in the line, thankfully I am next. "I am sending it back though because I already have enough alcohol. Thanks though for the kind gesture."

"You are welcome and you are not random people Anastasia." I can hear him take a shaky breath through the phone. "Listen to me. I want you to go home right now."

"You are so bossy and confusing Christian. I don't care what you want right now." I am so dizzy, the room is spinning and I can't feel my feet. "Especially since you seem not to want me one minute and then you are sending confusing messages the next."

"That's it. Tell me where you are?" Even in my drunken state I involuntarily shiver at his words, which he has all but growled at me.

"Some bar, but it is a long way from you. A long way from Seattle." My voice gets more cheerful towards the end of the sentence. I am so drunk.

"What is it called Anastasia?" As he is speaking, a girl exits the bathroom. It is finally my turn. Thank you, universe.

"I don't know. I gotta go though," I say as I walk into the bathroom.

"Which bar Anastasia?" I faintly hear him say as I hang up the phone.

Finally getting to use the bathroom is like heaven. I am drying my hands with a paper towel when my phone rings. I look down at the display. My stomach drops when I see 'Christian Grey' appear. Fuck. Did I really call him?

"I'm sorry," I start to say.

"Stay where you are, I am going to get you." His voice is as monotone as the dial tone that directly follows.

"What?" I say, swaying so much I grab onto the vanity. "Hello?"

Putting my phone, which I no longer trust, into my back pocket I head out of the bathroom. The bar is now too loud for me to stand and I make a beeline for the front door. The fresh air that hits me in the face is sobering. Fuck. Oh fuck me. What have I done? I really should have kept better track of how much I drank. My mother would be so disappointed in me right now. Ray would be seeing red.

What the hell did Christian mean when he said he was going to get me? I am not waiting here for him to drive down from Seattle. Screw that. The cold night air has ceased to sober me, now it is just making me cold. I ponder heading back inside when Jose suddenly appears next to me with my jacket, my old faded blue denim jacket that has so many pockets it doubles as a purse.

"Saw you come out here," Jose says. "I thought you would be cold." He steps towards me from behind, enveloping me with the jacket. I snuggle into it. Jose doesn't drop his hands from where they land as he helped me into the jacket.

"You are so beautiful Ana," He steps closer; I can feel his chest at my back. Suddenly he is holding me in his arms, having spun me around to face him. It has only made me feel even dizzier. "You know I like you."

"You do?" He simply nods. Darn Kate, she is always right.

"Carino, I know we have never had the courage before but now is our chance." He is leaning in but no part of me wants this.

"No, Jose," I am not sure he can hear my meek voice over the music spilling out onto the street. "No."

"I think the lady said no," says a voice in the dark. It is an angry voice, it is a voice full of dangerous intent; it is the voice that belongs to Christian Grey.

As Jose looks to the source of the voice, I see my friend surface from his drunken haze. The realization that the Christian Grey is standing there sobers both of us. Jose slowly looks back to me, the shock of his actions already on his face. He takes a number of steps from me, throwing his hands up and shaking his head.

"Ana, I am sorry." He turns on his heels and disappears back inside. My head is still spinning, now at a speed that doesn't let me stand upright. I sway and Christian catches me.

"I think," I say as I put my hand to my mouth.

I don't think, I know; I know that I am going to vomit. I do, spectacularly on the ground, only just managing to pivot away from Christian at the last moment. Vaguely I am aware of his reassuring hands resting on my shoulders, somehow managing to keep my hair out of the line of fire.

After I have finished, once the dry heaving has stopped, Christian slow leads me to the side of the building. He leans on the brick wall, with me in his arms. There is a solid warmth emanating from him and I feel a sense of comfort. However the overwhelming feeling is mortification, with a lot of gratitude thrown in. In the back of my mind I note that this is the second time Christian has held me, saved me.

"Do you think you are done?" Christian says after a minute. That is when I notice I am shivering, I suppose from the cold night air but I cannot tell; I am too drunk. Risking a peek up at him, I am only met with a composed stare.

"Done with being sick, I think so. Done with drinking, I know so." My answer is strained, my throat sore. I really need some water.

"So you don't make a habit of this behavior then Anastasia?" Ever so slightly his grip on me tightens. It is possessive and protective, which confuses me.

"I have never been drunk before and I have no desire to repeat this feeling." I try to step away from him but the head spinning has turned into an extreme dizziness. "I am sorry." I fall back against him, my full weight now on Christian as he holds me close to his chest.

"What are you sorry for Anastasia?" Slowly, shifting me slightly, he pulls out a handkerchief. As he is dabbing the sweat from my forehead tenderly, I notice it is monogrammed with a CTG. T huh, wonder what it stands for?

"Sorry for calling you, sorry for the vomiting. Just overall sorry." I say, mumbling into his chest as I enjoy the feeling of being this close to him.

"Let's get you home." He hands me the handkerchief, hoists me up and begins to help me walk. We are heading to the parking lot. I cannot leave without Kate.

"Wait," my weak voice tries. Christian stops, looking down at me. "I need to tell Kate, make sure she is okay." Girl code one o one, never leave without making sure the other is safe.

"Just call her; I don't think you can handle going back inside." His eyes are searching my face. In my inebriated state I think I see concern there. "It is loud, too many people. In your state, not a good idea."

"But I'll be with you," I say. My voice doesn't tremble and I know I feel safe with him, even like this. He looks sad, deeply so, as he brings his hand to the side of my face.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." He is slowly caressing my cheek and even being this drunk, I feel my body ache in places I didn't know I have. Which warning is he talking about I wonder.

I feel weak, drunk and so so embarrassed. Yet as he carefully leads me back inside, tightly holding my hand, I feel other things too. Christian was right though. As soon as we enter the bar I feel very faint. There are too many people pushing against us, too much sound and a very strong smell of alcohol. We get to the table where we were sitting and I check to make sure I didn't leave anything behind.

"I don't see Kate," I say, yelling. Christian simply points, leaning in close to me.

"There, she is with that guy from outside." His voice holds so much venom. I sway slightly, grabbing on to his arm.

Kate is indeed there, on the dance floor, with Jose and Levi. A lot of other people are around them, people I know but can't quite place. Kate, Jose, and Levi all look like they are having a lot of fun. They have clearly had so much more practice at being drunk than I. Trying to walk over towards them, I almost lose my footing. Christian steers me instead towards the nearest wall, his hand resting on the small of my back as I grip his arm still.

"Wait here. I will tell her you are leaving," Christian says once I am safely leaning against said nearest wall. It is warm and smells funny.

I can still see him as he walks through the dancing drunk students. The surprise on Kate's face is humorous for a second, until I see it change to concern. Dark spots are starting to dance in front of my face as I watch them interact, so I close my eyes and try to deeply breathe. Oh no, I think I am going to faint. Suddenly I feel two hands on me, which causes my eyes to snap open.

"Anastasia," Christian says as our eyes meet. There is no doubt about the distress in them this time. Why should he care though? Why is he even here? Everything is spinning.

"I think I'm gonna faint." I feel Christian pull me towards him, then everything fades to black.

* * *

Author's Note:

I said in an author's note on the first chapter this was a nostalgia story; since I cannot go back and read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' again for the first time, writing this is the closest I can get. I love the characters and the story, but there were parts of the books that I always wanted to alter just slightly.

Being a big fan of the slow burn, it will take a little while to get to the fork in the road as it were. I hope the journey isn't too tedious.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	6. Chapter Six - Not Until I Have Your

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Six – Not Until I Have Your Written Consent

"Fuck you." I hear Kate's words. My eyes won't open though.

"Fuck me?" Christian doesn't sound happy, I feel his words reverberate through my body. It is then I realize he is holding me in his arms. "What kind of friend are you, she is beyond goodtime drunk."

"Hello, we all are." I feel Kate press a hand to my face, I can smell her perfume. "Shit." By the sound of her voice I can tell her buzz is well and truly gone.

I try to talk but nothing comes out. It isn't her fault. I made my own choices. Choices I am already regretting, but they remain my choices. How is it possible for the world to spin even when your eyes are closed?

"Why are you here Christian?" Kate voice is laced with mistrust. My question precisely. I feel Christian tighten his grip, clearly Kate doesn't have Christian privileges yet.

"She called me," he says in a matter of fact manner. He isn't telling the truth, the whole truth anyway.

"I doubt that." She pauses. "You crushed her on the coffee date." Fuck Kate, why did you have to go and say that. I groan.

"That wasn't my intention." I feel Christian move this weight from one foot to the other.

"Whatever your intention it doesn't matter, it is what happened." I groan again, trying to alert them to my presence. I don't like how they are talking about me while I am right here. "I should take her home." Kate says after the latest groan from me increases in volume.

"You are in no condition to give her the care she needs." Mr. Control Freak attacks again, but it does make me feel good that he wants to take care of me.

"Well I can't let you take her." Mr. Control Freak meets Miss Never Backs Down. The comic book practically writes itself.

"Why not?" Christian turns, and I feel him shift his hold on me. I hear a car unlock and suddenly I am being unloaded into a seat, Christian pulling the seat belt securely around me; too tightly I might add.

"Does anyone care what I want?" I struggle out. I briefly open my eyes, but the spinning makes me shut them again quickly. From the brief glimpse I got of Christian, he wasn't looking particularly pleased.

"No," they both say in unison. Well that settles it then, doesn't it.

"You either get into my car now and come home, or you let me take her to my hotel. I refuse to leave her alone in this state." Christian sounds very authoritative, it is his way or the highway.

"I am not in a state." I say, mumbling under my breath. Neither hear me, fine by me.

"Okay," Kate says as she slides into the backseat with me. "I know you have our address." Her tone is not pleased, almost indignant. I rest my head on her shoulder as Christian gets behind the wheel and starts up the engine. I don't think it takes very long for me to pass out again. Whatever transpires next, forever lost from my memory.

The next time I regain a conscious mind, my comfort level is high and I feel satisfyingly warm. Snuggled into the blanket, I am not sure I ever want to get up from this bed. It slowly enters my mind that it is too quiet, none of the typical noise I have gotten used to every morning. Then, suddenly and without warning, I remember the previous evening. Not in exact details but enough of the overall picture. Oh fuck. I let my eyes spring open.

The last thing I remember is Christian was going to take me home. More fractured memories hit me at that realization. Christian is here in Portland. Christian had to deal with a drunk me and a drunk Kate. Poor man.

I glance through the blanket at the room around me. I clear my throat, suddenly desperate for a drink of water. There is not enough memory recall in the world to help me remember how much I drank last night, but I must be beyond dehydrated.

Sitting up, I look to the bedside table. My salvation is staring at me in the face; a full glass of orange juice and two Advil are waiting for me. I could have done without the accompanying notes of 'Eat Me' and 'Drink Me' sitting in front of the Advil and juice respectively, but I know immediately who put them there. I guess control freaks are good at anticipating needs.

I nestle into the pillows behind me while shifting the blanket so it is covering me from the waist down. I ponder my state of undress as I drink the orange juice, the Advil disappearing with the first mouthful. My bra and panties are still on but I am wearing a men's tee shirt. From the smell, the intoxicating scent, I don't need three guesses to pick the owner.

Why am I in Christian's shirt though, I wonder. Kate wouldn't have let anything happen, especially with how distrustful she already is of Christian. As I place the now empty glass back, there is a soft knock on my door and it swings open.

"Good Morning Anastasia," Christian says as he saunters into the room. I can instantly tell he was been working out, possibly just back from a run. His breathing is slightly labored and his clothes are dark from sweat. He is carrying a mysterious leather tote bag, and I wonder where he got it. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I deserve," I murmur more to myself than to him.

"Probably because you brought up most of the alcohol last night." He deadpans while not even looking at me. Instead he is looking through the tote bag.

The memory of the vomiting, the purge if you will, smacks me in the face. I bury my head in my hands in shame. Then I remember Jose, the look of shame on his remorseful face. I hope that he does feel bad. My body shudders at the thought of what might have been if Christian hadn't shown up. Would I have been able to stop it?

"How did I get here?" I say without thinking. I don't like not being able to remember; I hate it in fact.

"I drove you here." He is now walking slowly in my direction, stopping at the foot of the bed.

"And why are you here?" My eyes are focused on his body, I cannot help it. I have never seen him not in a suit before, except for last night but I was too drunk to take it in.

"I am still finalizing some things at your university." So he never left. I am surprised; I cannot believe he has been this close all this time.

"No, why are you here in my apartment Christian?" I really should stop asking questions but I cannot get all this straight in my mind. I note with the deep part of myself that he doesn't react this time when I use his first name.

"Because it seems I am incapable of staying away from you," he says as a serious look overcomes his features. It is almost as if it pains him to say so. As my body responds to him, I remember another little detail I had presently overlooked.

"And why am I wearing your shirt?" A lesser man would have the decency to blush. Christian however only pauses. "Say it."

"I wanted to get you cleaned up. You were covered in vomit and Kate herself had just passed out." His voice is low, curt. "I didn't want to go through your possessions, so I used the closest thing I had on hand."

"I am so sorry Christian." There I said his name again. I like it. I also like the small smirk that spreads across his face.

"It is certainly an evening I won't soon forget," he says still with that self satisfied smirk. "Not really what 'Girls Gone Wild' promises."

"So, you just undressed me?" He nods ever so slightly. I take a couple of shallow breaths. He quirks an eyebrow at me, causing a blush to spread over my face.

"I didn't really want to share a bed with someone covered in vomit." Wait, we shared a bed. "And your lounge was covered in boxes, not really an option."

"We didn't," I can't even ask the question. I cannot form the words with my mouth. My brain can and it is screaming it at me; did we have sex?

"Necrophilia is not my thing," he says as he turns from the bed and walks out through the door. Thankfully he must have known what I was trying to say. I fiddle with the blanket, my face must be aflame from my embarrassment.

"So we just slept then?" I say when he returns quickly, a plate of breakfast foods balanced in his hands. It smells delicious.

"I novelty for me too." Placing the plate in front of me on the bed, he pushes it towards me. "You need to eat." I pick up some toast and take a bite; it is then I realize how hungry I am. I cannot remember the last time I ate.

"You are quite the task master Mr. Grey." He fixes me with a look, one that has my thighs instantly pressing together. The food is forgotten. He looks so powerful, sexy; he almost looks hungry for something that you cannot eat, like he wants to consume me.

"If you were mine, you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week." He leans over the bed and takes a bite out of the toast I am holding, never breaking eye contact. I think my brain melts. "I got to take a shower," he says as he stands. Pulling a navy towel from the tote bag of his, he looks over his shoulder at me. "Eat."

With his command issued, I watch him disappear. How can I eat when he says things like that? When he looks at me like that? I hear the shower start running. There is a naked Christian Grey two rooms away, in my shower. I just shared a bed with that same Christian Grey, except for the naked part. So what if I have no memory of it happening, it totally counts. His words and actions aren't lining up. A hope blooms in my chest. These are the actions of someone who cares.

My phone chirps from somewhere outside the bedroom. I hesitate for a second, not having any idea where my pants are. I crawl from the bed and stalk into the next room wearing only my underwear and Christian's shirt. I mange to locate my stuff from the night before. Grabbing my phone, while it is still ringing, I look at the caller ID. Oh god, it is my mother. My mortification is outweighed by my desire to talk to her. We haven't spoken in a couple weeks.

I don't want Christian to hear me, so I walk in the direction of Kate's bedroom and I pop my head inside. She is passed out on the bed, still in last night's clothes. From the throw blanket covering her, the shoes neatly placed beside her bedside table, plus the Advil and juice, I can tell Christian has been looking out for her too. I feel my heart flutter.

"Hello," I say quietly, in an almost whisper as I answer the call. Kate doesn't stir as I pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Hi Ana," comes my mother's voice. She sounds happy, contented. "Is everything okay honey? You sound weird." No matter how old I get, she is still my mother. She is the one calling me, what is with the questions. Can she tell that a man is in my shower? Are her Mom powers that good?

"Yeah, just tired." The shower is still running in the next room as I walk out of Kate's but I don't know how long I have; I am not sure how long he likes his showers. "How is the trip?"

"It was going great," she stops talking to me and I can hear her conversing with someone else. I can't quite make out the words but I know is it Bob.

"Mom?" Just like that she has be worried. She sounds happy enough but in another life she could have been a world class actress. I lean against the kitchen counter.

"Bad news," she says. Can I deal with more bad news?

"Are you okay?" A million scenarios are running through my head. Ray is right, I need to call her more.

"We are fine, it is just Bob has broken his foot." She pauses for a few seconds, I think to fortify herself. I am pretty sure I can guess what is coming next. "We will miss your graduation ceremony."

I am crushed all over again. My own Mother won't be at my graduation ceremony. I know I can tell myself it isn't that important, just some pomp and circumstance. However things are so rarely all about me. This is perhaps the biggest thing that will happen to me in years. Well, maybe aside from finally meeting a man that makes my body react in very delicious ways to his presence; I am not going to tell my Mother about that though.

"What? Can't just you come? I mean you don't have to bring Bob," I say. I can hear the unshed tears in my voice. "Wasn't the last stop on your holiday in Los Angeles? That isn't even that far away." I stubbornly wipe under my eyes angrily; I am not a crier. She hesitates before answering.

"You know the man," she says finally, the frustration evident in her voice. "Stubbed toe and he is up at the emergency ward." The warmth in her tone as she talks about Bob, even when annoyed with him, defrosts my attitude a little. I am about to tell her how I feel when I suddenly hear the shower stop. I shudder. He cannot find me on the phone, especially not on the phone to my Mother.

"I gotta go Mom, I understand. Love you," I say, hurrying my words until they all string together.

"Love you," she says as I quickly hang up and try to suppress my emotions.

"Is everything okay Anastasia?" Christian is standing in the bathroom doorway, a towel hung low on his hips. His unruly, sexily so, hair is still dripping.

"Yeah," I squeak out, hiding my phone behind my back. As I try to keep my eyes off his naked torso, and what a torso it is, I notice his are sweeping my body. I was too worried about being caught on the phone, I had completely forgotten I am not wearing pants. At least his shirt covers most of me.

"Shower is all yours," he says sounding completely unaffected. "I would have dressed in there, but it isn't big enough to swing a cat."

"What are you going to wear?" There is no way I can handle him wearing a towel much longer. I watch as he walks further into my living room and back into my bedroom.

"I had Taylor pick me up some fresh clothes," he says as he walks back out of my room; he is holding up the bag I saw earlier, which I look at with despondent eyes. Taylor, my chest tightens.

"So you do have a girlfriend." I fiddle with the hem of his shirt I am wearing. Taylor must have very expensive tastes by the look of that bag. I wonder if she is the jealous type. I would be, if Christian were my boyfriend.

"What?" He blanches. "Taylor is my driver, my very male driver." He chuckles, a very throaty chuckle. Oh my it is sexy. My eyes snap up at him.

"Oh, well you are more then welcome to use my bedroom to change." I scurry into the bathroom before he can say anything else.

With the door shut, and locked, behind me I start to breathe deeply. The humidity is still hanging in the air, making me think Christian must like his showers punishingly hot. It is only after I strip off my clothes that I realize I have nothing to change into myself. Storing Christian's tee shirt in the dirty clothes hamper, I turn the water on. I am sure Christian won't mind if I steal one tee shirt, he probably won't even miss it.

As I step under the too hot water, I realize three things. The first is that sometimes nothing feels better than stepping under the shower spray. It is luxurious. I am in heaven as the water sprays down onto my body. The second is all I can smell is him all around me. It is intoxicating. The third and final realization is that Christian choose to stay, to linger. Hell, he even went to the trouble of making me breakfast. People like him don't really exist, do they?

When I exit the shower, I grab my towel and wrap it around my body. I watch myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth, glad that my face doesn't show any signs of my stupid drunken night on the town. Trying to squeeze some water from my hair, I settle for a side plait to keep it from wetting my entire back. When I am all finished, I pull the towel tighter around myself.

Christian is typing on his laptop at the dining table when I emerge. He looks deep in concentration. Taylor obviously dropped more than just clothes off and a towel off. How long is he planning on staying? I take a chance, darting through the living room and into my bedroom wearing only the towel. Grabbing the first pair of clean jean shorts and tee shirt I see, I dress quickly.

Leaning on the doorway of my bedroom for a few beats when I am done, I just watch him work. He must be perpetually busy, forever working on something. I feel guilty that he is wasting his time on two drunk university students. When he looks up and we make eye contact, a slow lazy smile spreads across his face.

"You look beautiful Anastasia," he says huskily. I simply shrug, a small smile on my face in answer to his. I watch as Christian shuts his laptop, unhurriedly stands and walks over to where I am leaning. "I like Miss Steele, but why is it wet." Christian reaches out and playfully tugs on my hair.

"Already packed the hairdryer." I cannot tear my eyes away from his hand, which is slowly twirling the end of my plait between two fingers. When he releases my hair, his hand travels to my face and cups my cheek.

"What are you doing to me Miss Steele?" His eyes are pleading with me. I want to help, only I don't know how. "I can't stay away."

"Then don't." I lean further into his hand, trying to get as close as possible.

"You don't know what you are asking." He tenderly swipes his thumb along my cheek, eliciting a soft moan.

"Enlighten me then." The lost of contact as he suddenly drops his hand makes me sigh. I want to reach out and touch him, but I don't.

"My tastes are very singular," he says with a pained but unapologetic look on his face.

"What aren't you telling me Christian?" He seems to be studying my face, searching for an answer. A look of fortitude takes over his features.

"I want to continue this conversation, but not here. You are free today." I think he has just commanded me to spend the day with him. He is just assuming I am free, instead of asking. I shake my head, even though I am eager to accept. Not only do I want to hear his explanation, I also just want to spend more time with him. I am beyond elated that he seems to want the same thing.

"I can't leave Kate with all the packing." Trying to keep the smile off my face, I stare at my feet. He doesn't want to leave me, it is a heady feeling. "We are moving very soon."

"To Seattle," he says almost as if purring. Does he try to be sexy? My head is drawn upwards by the sound of his voice and I search his eyes with my own. Only one word can describe his look, smoldering. I bring my lower lip in between my teeth and bite down. "I would like to bite that lip," he says still purring.

"I think I would like that too." Did I just say that out loud? I must still be drunk from last night. That is the only explanation, other than the oblivious I mean; I could just be drunk on lust for the man standing before me.

"I am not going to touch you, not until I have your written consent." This is a bucket of ice water onto my hazy mind. What the actual fuck does that mean? "Tonight then," he says as if it is straightforward. I am unable to catch up.

"Sorry?" He chuckles and I feel every hair on my body tingle.

"Are you available tonight?" He reaches out and touches my chin, effectively maneuvering my lip free from my teeth; I was unaware I was even doing it again.

"There is a lot of packing." I hate to think how long it will take me to pack up my bookcase.

"Pick you up at seven?" His eyes are metaphorically burning. I don't know how I resist it, but I do.

"I really can't." My voice is getting softer, my resolve weakening.

"Make it eight." His hand is still caressing my face, making its own plea.

"Not tonight." Why am I fighting this? "I will be in Seattle tomorrow." If Kate and I can finish packing up, that is.

"Can you wait that long?" His thumb sweeps across my lower lip, oh my can I?

"Tomorrow night we can, as you say, continue the conversation." I don't know where I found my strength, but I am only trembling a little.

"Deal." His hand travels down my cheek, shoulder, and he takes my hand in his. "I had better go then. The sooner you get to your packing, the sooner you will be mine." I shiver, I think I am already his.

* * *

Author's Note:

I am sorry to leave the chapter here... There are at least three versions of this particular chapter, hard to get right mainly because it impacts the timing of certain events that follow.

It was my intention to post this earlier, but today is the last day of working thirteen days straight so things kind of got away from me. Glad to just get the weekly update in to be honest.

Thanks for your continued support, hope some of you are still enjoying!

All elements of the books remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	7. Chapter Seven - What Is It About You

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Seven - What Is It About You

A million thoughts run through my head as I walk with Christian to the front door of my apartment. The loudest of those thoughts is just how bizarre the last day has been; I have gone from finishing my last final to drunken shenanigans and finally to a pending date with Christian Grey. The other overwhelming thing taking up residence in my brain, well that would be the feeling of holding his hand.

The silence is comfortable and I get the feeling he isn't going to tell me too much more, so I don't try to engage conversation. Releasing mine from his grasp, his hand travels to the small of my back as he escorts me through the door. There is an unspoken agreement between us as we walk down the steps, neither of us is quite ready to say goodbye. I catch a glimpse of his car, and smile.

It is a gorgeous, and impressive, Audi R8 in shiny black. Somehow it seems right in character for Christian. Everything he owns is top of the line, the latest version. Even that laptop I saw him working on earlier looked suspiciously like the Mac Book Pro not even on the shelves yet. He must be the ultimate consumer.

"Is this yours?" I say, pointing to the piece of art on four wheels. He grins like the young man he actually is. "Where is this driver of yours?" I have yet to meet Taylor, but my suspicion is that he is the man from the parking lot that day on campus. To me he looked more like security.

"I want you all to myself." With that panty dropping line, the car beeps as it unlocks. Christian opens the passenger side door, placing his tote bag inside. I lean on the side of the car and watch him. I still don't want to say goodbye. The smile on his face as he closes the door is intoxicating.

When we make eye contact it feels like the air is combusting around us, cracking with an unseen but very real electricity. The energy is almost too much for me to handle, my body feels ignited being this close to him in such a personal way. Without thought, my lip is once again my teeth's prisoner.

"Fuck the paperwork," comes like a growl from Christian as he closes the space between us.

Suddenly I am pressed against the side of his car, my arms trapped causing me to grip the handle of the door with both hands and with a lot of force. I am completely at his mercy, and the searing look in his eyes seems to be asking permission as his lips crash into mine. For the next few seconds, minutes, hours, I don't know how long, I become a slave to the sensations he is creating within me.

My gasps of pleasure grant him deeper access to my mouth, while his hands seem to be everywhere on my body at once. I long to touch him, run my fingers though his dark coppery hair. Yet each time I try to free my hands by attempting to move forward, the pressure of his body on mine increases; this causes me to moan in frustration and pleasure at the same time.

From somewhere I hear a loud car horn, effectively causing Christian to spring away from me. My breathing is heavy, my heart rate through the roof. I have never, repeat never, been kissed like that. As I watch Christian's chest rise and fall, I feel as if my brain has been obliterated.

"What is it about you?" Christian says, breathless. My thoughts exactly Mr. Grey.

As Christian slowly reaches out and touches my face softly, I am in a daze. What just happened and how can I make it happen again, repeatedly? There must be physical signs all over me that Christian just claimed my very body for his own. The power his body had over mine, it should have felt wrong; it felt very, very right.

Even now, as he simply looks into my eyes, I feel myself under his spell. I have no ability to pull myself out of this. More to the point, I do not want to. This may be a completely new experience for me but I like the dangerous edge, the intoxicating feeling he is giving me is better than any cocktail or drug.

"See you in tomorrow." He says, tucking an escaped strand of my hair behind my ear.

"I'll text you my new address." This time I am aware of myself as I draw my lip between my teeth. I am playing with fire and I very much hope to get burnt.

"Laters, baby." He smirks, his hand still in my hair and I let out a loud laugh.

"Laters, baby?" This man is full of surprises. Usually I am not a fan of surprises, but I think my opinion is changing.

"Just something my dumb brother Elliot says." Letting his hand drop, he takes a step back. "Just seemed right." I watch as he turns and gets into his delightful car. With a small wave from me, he is gone. I stare down the road after him, ignoring the instant ache at his departure.

I hear Kate's animated squeals before I even turn and walk into the apartment; I follow the girly noise up the stairs. Kate is jumping up and down, surrounded by the piles of boxes in our living room. The living room that Christian was just in. The room that now feels strangely empty.

"What is all the racket about?" I say, with all the good humor I can manage as I come to a standstill in our front doorway. Her face turns to me, her eyes finding mine.

"I got it!" She says, almost screaming in her high-pitched excited voice.

"Got what?" I am surprised she is even awake; last I saw her, she was dead to the world.

"I got the junior internship with The Seattle Times," she says still almost yelling. She runs over and embraces me, I instantly return the hug.

"I am so happy for you, Kate." I squeeze her harder, trying not to let my green-eyed monster out. I really should have heard back by now as well from my applications. Seattle has a few publishing houses that I have applied for, having heard back from a big fat zero as of today. "You will knock their socks off."

"If I do well, who knows?" She shrugs as she releases me and steps back. "Maybe I will get put on as a permanent staffer."

"They would be stupid not too," I say with a sincere, warm smile. "They will need to lock you down before the Washington Post steals you away." She laughs, and then abruptly stops.

"Hold on, I am getting distracted." She gives me an evil grin. "Christian stayed over?" Her best effort to sound nonchalant is failing, hilariously.

"Yeah," I say with a shrug. Two can play this game.

"Ana." It is a whine. I smile at her, enjoying the win as I don't often get them.

"He wanted to make sure I, we, were okay." I cannot keep the smile from my face.

"Guess I was wrong about him." Kate's face takes on a quizzical look. "What are the chances he would be at the same bar as us, I didn't even realize that he was still in Portland." I choose not to correct her; I cannot relive my embarrassing phone call. "I guess I can rule out him being gay, at least one of my theories was correct."

"What theory?" I say innocently. It is possible I am not entirely listening to her anymore. I am pondering the too long of a duration before I get to see Christian again.

"That he likes you," she says. Oh, that theory. "Did he try anything with you?" Suddenly she looks serious, protective.

"He didn't want to take advantage of a drunk girl." I am once again reminded of how reckless and stupid I was. It is shameful how much risk I put myself in, sad that those dangers exist at all. Not everyone out there is like Christian Grey. "I am just lucky he was there."

"He isn't like anyone I've ever met," Kate says, looking confused. Her history with men is so vastly different from mine. I don't mind one bit most of the time, too much drama. "I feel like such a bad friend Ana." She pulls me in for another hug.

"Not as bad as Jose." I don't say it very loud, more mumble it into Kate's hair, but she hears it just fine though. Stepping back, she holds me at arm's length and grips my shoulders.

"What did that idiot do?" Down girl, it isn't a capital offence. It could have been though I realize.

"I don't want to talk about it." I push past her, hearing her shut the front door behind me. "What do you say we get into some packing?" I ask effectively changing the subject.

"Isn't there something else we can do?" Kate says while spinning her cell phone in her hands.

"We cannot put it off any longer, besides isn't Ethan flying in tonight?" She nods. "What time?"

"Eight o'clock I think," Kate says unlocking her phone and scrolling. "Yep, eight."

"So don't you think, maybe, we should get some stuff done?" I raise an eyebrow at her. Not being particular eager myself to pack, I at least want to do it to justify turning Christian down.

"Okay," she says sensing from my tone that I won't be backing down. "But you have to help me with my shoes."

"Deal." I grab her hand, both of us laughing as we head into her bedroom and get straight to work.

It is amazing how much stuff two people can accumulate over three or four years. We have things I didn't even realize. I should pack up my things more often, having located missing items and forgotten novels tucked away. If I didn't have so much packing to do tonight, there is an old paperback of 'Jude the Obscure' I would like to get reacquainted with.

Surprisingly, Kate has gotten a lot more done than I had thought while I was doing my bookshelf. Her work ethic, she tells me, kicked in when she decided that new city meant new wardrobe. This prompted a mass cull of her clothes, which she is currently sitting in the middle of.

"Do you want lunch?" I say to the pile of clothes that is consuming Kate. It shakes as she shakes her head.

"No." She turns to me, pulling a particularly ugly sweater off her head and points. "But if you see anything you want, grab it."

I help Kate load everything she doesn't want, and everything she does want, into bags and boxes. My poor brain cannot wrap my head around the fact that even with her getting rid of half her shoes, the amount she has still out numbers mine two to one. We load the bags for goodwill into Wanda, which I promise to deliver later. As the day moves into afternoon, we begin to lag. As we plan on moving a majority of our belongings and furniture tomorrow though, there is still plenty to do.

I tackle the remaining items in my bedroom, Kate handles the living room. It doesn't take long for me to pull out all of my clothes, folding them into my suitcase. I find my old WSU duffle bag, filling it with the necessary items I want to leave behind for the couple of nights around graduation. I place it into my empty closet with my graduation dress.

There are a few moments where I think we are going to run out of boxes and bags, but with a little Tetris maneuvering we get it all to fit. Bathroom, kitchen, bedrooms, and living room, all packed up and ready to go. I stand with Kate in the middle of the apartment, our arms around each other's shoulders.

"Everything done?" I say, my voice echoing oddly with the apartment all packed up in boxes.

"Yep, just my overnight bag and garment bag with my graduation dress in my closet." I nod in affirmation at Kate. We are nothing if not good planners.

"Me too," I say, everything else is coming to Seattle tomorrow. "I sure won't like sleeping in a sleeping bag graduation night and the night before." It will be worth it to spend another couple of nights here in the apartment though, give me a chance to wallow in the past before wallowing in the future.

"I am sure my family won't mind if you come to stay at the hotel with us." Kate squeezes my shoulder tenderly. Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh are flying in from Washington, D.C. for our graduation. I try not to think bitterly about my own mother, who can't even press pause on her honeymoon to come and see mine.

"You should spend that time with them Kate, celebrate your new internship." She smiles brightly.

"I am so happy." I don't think I can remember a time when she looked happier either.

"You have earned it," I say, meaning it with every part of myself.

I promise to do one more sweep of the apartment while Kate leaves for the airport to pick up Ethan. I like her brother just fine, but they are completely and one hundred percent different. Oh sure, you can tell by looking at them that they are related. That is where the resemblance stops though.

It is quiet in the apartment, as I go through and check various spots to see if we missed anything. With nothing to distract me, Kate not there constantly talking, my thoughts are once again on my Mother. As I am checking the bathroom sink, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. With annoyance, and anger, I wipe the stray tear from my cheek. Fuck that, I won't cry over this. Ray will be there, what more do I need?

When Kate and Ethan arrive at the apartment, they surprise me with pizza and beer. They also picked up the U-Haul truck on the way back from the airport, but we all decide that we won't start loading until tomorrow morning. As we drink beer, the three of us fight over who gets what bedroom in the new apartment.

"I think Ethan should get the biggest, since he will be studying a lot." I say, trying not to laugh at Kate who is rolling her eyes. "Spending the most time there, getting the most use out of it."

"Wise woman we have here." Ethan pats me on the head, the big brother I never had.

"He can study at the university." Kate takes another swig of her beer.

"You would have your older brother fail out just to have a bigger bedroom?" Ethan says as he takes the last piece of pizza. I still cannot believe he is so close to finishing up his postgraduate in psychology. The Kavanagh family sure has a couple of overachieving children.

"We don't need a psychologist in the family anyway." Kate shrugs, stealing the pizza from Ethan.

"Like we need another journalist," he says snatching it back and we all descend into laughter. I sense fun times ahead breaking up the arguments between these two when we all move in together. I am just psyched we will all be in the same city for once.

"Maybe you should reconsider student housing Ethan," I say, with a grin. Effectively ending the argument by grabbing the pizza from Ethan, taking a bite. "Yum." The sound muffled by my full mouth.

"Wise indeed, and in one so young." Ethan smiles fondly at me, passing me another beer.

It is a fun night but with the work ahead of us, we all turn in early so we can get a jump start tomorrow. Ethan takes Kate's bed for the night, Kate and I share mine. In the morning, I make a trip to goodwill and pick up my last batch of Voodoo Doughnuts for a while. As Kate bites into a Bacon Maple Bar, she smiles at me sheepishly.

"What?" I say to her once I swallow my mouthful of coffee.

"Jose called while you were gone." Kate pauses as Ethan walks past the back of the truck, where Kate and I are sitting. "He told me what happened." Just like that Kate has killed my enjoyment of the doughnuts.

"I don't want to talk about it Kate." I stand, dropping down onto the pavement.

"Well, too bad. He is going to be here in half an hour to help load the larger stuff." She is trailing close behind me as I walk about into the apartment. "You and I are strong, but an extra set of hands always helps. Ethan isn't exactly Thor." Now that she mentions it though, he does kind of look like him.

"So what," I say spinning on my heels to face Kate. "You want me to forgive Jose just like that?" I snap my fingers, earning a head shake from Kate. "Just because we need to move a couple of couches?"

"No, not just like that." She puts her doughnut down on the kitchen bench. "I already chewed him out on the phone."

"What?" My exclaim is genuine, but I cannot keep the amusement from my voice; chicks before dicks indeed.

"You can't tell me he didn't deserve it. But I do genuinely think it was a drunken mistake." Kate puts a hand on my shoulder, her concern evident. "And it didn't go very far, so at least there is that."

"It still shouldn't have happened." My body sags, I am over being a woman. "I shouldn't need to forgive him."

"But it did happen, and I think we were all below our best that night." To most people, that might have sounded like a dig at me; but I know Kate too well. I think she is still being critical of her own behavior that night. I think she forgets sometimes that she is my best friend, not my mother. "It is best not to let things like this fester."

"You are right." I nod slowly, taking a long sip of coffee. "Maybe I have ignored enough of his phone calls."

I let the siblings take over the distribution of chores, hoping it won't be too awkward between Jose and I. Admittedly, when Jose shows up, I know it will never be the same between us. As soon as I see him walk up the driveway, I know I no longer trust him the way that I did. I wish he had talked to me about his feelings, or made a move when he was sober. If it had gone down like that I wouldn't feel so betrayed, blindsided.

"Ana," he says in greeting, sounding strange as he almost never calls me by my name. "I am so sorry about what happened."

"What happened?" Ethan appears next to us, so does Kate. She grabs Ethan by the arm, after smacking him upside the head, and drags him towards the truck.

"Can you forgive me for my thuggish behavior?" He has his arms crossed over his chest. I believe he is sorry, but I think it is more over my reaction and not his actions.

"In time, I hope." I bend over to pick up a box. I hope he proves me wrong, hope he can accept I love him as a friend. "Our friendship meant, means, a lot to me."

"Friendship?" He looks disappointed. "Is that all it will ever be?"

"For me, yes." There is no doubt in my mind, especially now, the question mark of our friendship is finally a full stop. He stares at me for a few seconds, then walks past me and picks up some boxes himself. I don't try to engage him in conversation after that, instead I avoid him for most of the morning.

All four of us fall into a pattern. All being university students, past and present, most of us have done a move like this before. Kate and Ethan hail originally from D.C., Jose and I from sunny California. We are old hat at it now. Ethan and Jose take most of the heavier lifting, but Kate and I hold our own.

Ethan is adamant that he drives the truck though, Jose taking the opportunity to ride shotgun to get away from Kate's glares and my humble offer of friendship. Kate follows behind me in her car, as I am unsure of how likely Wanda is to make the journey to Seattle. Thankfully good old Wanda makes it the whole way, with only two minor stoppages.

My body tingles as we enter Seattle. Even though I am fairly certain Christian is still in Portland, I can sense him everywhere in this city. How is it possible to miss someone that you hardly know, only saw twenty-four hours ago?

Kate has the honor of being the first to unlock the new apartment, and Ethan being the gentleman he is has let her have the biggest bedroom. I don't mind letting her have the en-suite, may actually even prefer sharing a bathroom with Ethan. He doesn't insist on spreading his make-up all over the counter like Kate, he doesn't even have make-up.

Once we have all the things unloaded, placed in their approximate positions, Kate and I shout the boys lunch across the street. I am not surprised to find decent coffee in Seattle, but it is a total bonus to be right across the road from some. It may only be early afternoon, but I am already dog tired and in need of some java juice.

Jose agrees to drive the truck back to Portland and return it, as a favor and a way to get home. After he says goodbye to Kate and Ethan when we get back to the apartment, he comes over to where I am stacking plates in the kitchen.

"Come wave goodbye?" He says, interrupting me as I make a mental note of what to buy at the store to stock up the kitchen.

"Sure." Once we get outside, he leans on the side of the truck. Jingling the keys, I can tell he is about to say something stupid. I just don't know what.

"I hope you can forgive me Ana." Okay, maybe I was wrong.

"We all make mistakes," I say with a small smile on my face. Maybe it won't be so hard to forgive him, we were both crazy drunk. Nothing really happened.

"Just tell me one thing," he says with a serious tone. Oh no, where is he going with this.

"Okay." I shift from one foot to the other.

"Is it because of him?" Jose suddenly stops moving the keys, the silence it creates is jarring.

"Is what because of who?" I am confused. No one made Jose make a pass at me, no one but himself and too much alcohol.

"The man who took you home that night." I don't like the way Jose says 'took you home', there is venom in his voice. "Is he the reason we are just friends?"

"No, he isn't." He certainly doesn't help though.

"I just cannot shake that we were meant to be, mi amor." Jose locks eyes with me, making me feel uncomfortable.

In that moment, I doubt my actions in our entire friendship. I haven't done anything to lead him on, but I never made how I felt clear either. Never did I realize I had to, my experience with romance that limited. I shouldn't have let him call me that nickname, Kate warned me. But until he tried to kiss me, he was always off with another woman. Talk about your mixed messages.

"If we were wouldn't we have gotten together a long time ago?" I say in a small voice, my heart splitting. He shakes his head.

"I don't know Ana, maybe if I had his money." My heart shatters now, how could he think that lowly of me while he is trying to say we are meant to be? If my only crime was not being sexually attracted to him, then the punishment is severe.

"Thank you for your help today, but I think you had better leave." Ethan's voice is calm, soothing. Ever the psychologist. He can sense this situation is about to blow. I turn and walk inside away from the men; I hear Ethan giving Jose gas money as I disappear into the building.

Kate, luckily, didn't hear any of the conversation. She can instantly tell I am upset though when Ethan strolls into the room and pulls me into a hug. She doesn't hesitate, coming up behind me and joining in. I feel a sob fall from my lips, tears drop onto Ethan. I don't want to cry, but Jose has been a friend for so long; his words hurt.

"What happened?" Kate ineffectually whispers over my head.

"Male ego and hurt pride," Ethan says, his voice still calm.

"I am going to kill him." Kate squeezes me tighter.

"Guys, it will be okay." I struggle free from their grasp, a hand holding onto each of them. "I have you, I will be alright."

"I don't think he really meant it Ana." Ethan is trying his best to make me feel better, but his words don't. I raise my hand in a stopping motion.

"Please don't try and make excuses for him," I say as I angrily wipe away my tears. "Now, these boxes aren't going to unpack themselves."

* * *

Author's Note:

So this chapter ended up being a bit longer then the usual, but only because I split the scene from the previous chapter and included it here. I think we can all agree that a chapter with Christian is always better than one without.

While I realize I shoehorned "Laters, Baby" into my story, I really wanted to include it. For some reason, I love it in the original books. Forgive me?!

As I got a proper weekend, I thought my lovely readers deserved an extra chapter! Thank you for reading!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	8. Chapter Eight - Any Other Billionaire

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Eight – Any Other Billionaire

The Kavanagh siblings and I spend the rest of the day unpacking boxes. Ethan's stuff arrives in the late afternoon from the movers. While I watch three burly men unload Ethan's possessions, I text Christian my address; getting a reply of *Pick you up at eight. ~ C.G.* I respond with an *I'll be here*. There will be bells on too.

It is slow going, the living room getting reorganized three times before we can all agree on placement. Two against one, Ethan and I on the same side, win out in the end. Ethan, once he has shifted and re-shifted the lounges, heads out to get some supplies from the nearest market.

While looking through one of the boxes in the kitchen to see if we have enough cereal, I come across the champagne Christian sent me. As I place it in the empty refrigerator, I think to myself that I must give it back. Kate and I, and even Ethan, are fine with the cheap stuff. No sense in spoiling ourselves. It will taste all the sweeter when we can afford it ourselves once we are gainfully employed. Unfortunately that will probably be a while, for me anyway. That, however, is part of being freshly graduated and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Four large packing boxes and three suitcases later I bow out of the unpacking endeavor. I really haven't been that productive, really only unpacking and not sorting the items. Kate has promised to finish the common rooms later tonight as I watch her start on her wardrobe. I doubt her promise will be kept but I am still happy with what we have achieved today.

"Where are you going tonight anyway?" Kate says as she examines, to my eyes anyway, two identical looking pairs of shoes.

"Just meeting up with a," I pause. I don't know what to call Christian. "Friend." Seems like the safest option at the moment.

"Sure." Kate murmurs. I don't think she is listening. She places the shoes neatly in her cupboard. "How am I ever going to make this work?" She says quietly, and I laugh silently at her dilemma.

As I start to get ready for this evening, I realize time got away from me. I don't have long to prepare, which in a way is a good thing as I am not too worked up. I relish getting to be the first of have a shower in the new place, and once out I take the time to style my hair.

There were no discussions of tonight's activities so I am at a crossroads on what to wear. I have said it before and I will say it again, it really sucks being a girl sometimes. I settle on a nice pair of jeans, a scarlet colored top, my black flats and a trench couch my Mom bought me for my birthday. I debate taking a purse, but instead slip my wallet and phone into the jacket's pockets. I am ready, waiting and thankfully on time.

"Don't wait up for me Kate," I say to the pile of clothes that is engulfing my friend once more. The amount of clothes she has still astounds me, and this is the reduced version.

"Be safe and don't do anything I wouldn't do." She smiles from under her fur coat.

"So, I guess that just rules out animal sacrifice then?" I earn a laugh and a wave.

"Animal sacrifice?" Ethan is carrying in three large grocery bags, placing them on the counter. "Sounds fun." He turns and looks at me. "Wow, Ana. You look beautiful."

"Thanks Ethan." I give him a small smile, a blush warming my cheeks.

"Hope whoever you are meeting is worth it." Ethan squeezes my arm lightly.

"Me too," I say as I grab the champagne from the fridge. "See you later."

When my watch hits eight I am standing on our porch, leaning against the railing with the gifted bottle of champagne in my hand. Not a minute after I see headlights coming down the road, the Audi R8 sliding gracefully into the driveway in front of me. I feel the smile spread across my face as Christian gets out of the car.

"You didn't keep me waiting," is his greeting as I walk down the steps. He is standing at the bottom and holds out his hand which I greedily take in mine.

"Didn't want to keep myself waiting." My voice is husky, full of unconcealed desire. He looks delicious in black pants and white dress shirt. It is the first time I haven't seen him wearing gray, even if it is still monochrome. "Are you going to give me a clue as to where we are going?"

With a shake of the head, he opens my door. As I slid in, he lets his hand travel along my arm. It feels sensual and intimate, like a lover's action. In less than five minutes my head is already spinning so fast I cannot catch up. There is no turning back now. I mean to see this to the end, whatever awaits me. The secrets of the mysterious Christian Grey will be mine; I hope so much more.

He doesn't give anything away as we drive down the street. There is complete silence in the car. If I didn't know better I would say he was purposefully trying to create a suspenseful atmosphere. I stare out the window to see if I recognize the direction he is taking me. It is too dark to really make out too much, except for the illuminated businesses; none of which I really know.

"About before," Christian says, his gaze fixed on the road as he turns down a side street. "I am sorry, that won't happen again." Is he talking about yesterday at his car? Is he sorry that it happened or sorry that it won't again? The man is a living, breathing cryptic crossword.

"I liked what happened." I flush at my words, apparently I am getting bolder. I wish I knew how I was managing that. I peek over at him. He is smiling but remains focused on traffic, thankfully not looking at me.

"Very eager, Miss Steele." I wonder when we got back to Miss Steele. "But it cannot happen until you have an idea of the facts." At least he isn't ruling it out completely, he must be sorry that it won't happen again; for now anyways. I squirm in my seat. Perhaps I am eager.

I cannot wrap my head around the fact that this time two days ago I was sitting in a dingy college bar, living the student life. Today I am going who knows where with a billionaire, who says he won't kiss me again until I know more. A billionaire who has kissed me, taken care of me and has awoken a dormant part of myself. I wish it was about the money, then I could pin point the reason. There is something deeper, something primal about how I react to him however.

He fiddles a little at the dashboard until music fills the car with sound. I fall back into the seat, listening to the magical notes coming from the speaker. I let my eyes float shut, deciding not to dwell on why I feel so safe in Christian's company. With my exhaustion over the past few days, years really, I almost fall asleep.

Every moment I spend with Christian still feels surreal. I would deny any of it ever happened, if I didn't have proof. I cannot believe Kate thought Christian would be in that bar. It is really not his scene. She clearly doesn't remember Christian telling her I called him. Come to think of it, I don't even know how he came to be there. I sure as shit don't remember giving him that information.

"Christian," I say into the silent, save for the beautiful music, car. His name on my lips is a question, asking permission almost.

"Yes, Anastasia." His reply is swift, like he was waiting for me to speak all this time.

"How did you find me that night? There are a lot of bars in Portland and Vancouver."

"It is simply really," he shrugs his shoulders. "I tracked your cell phone." He glances at me quickly with an unapologetic look on his face.

"Oh, that simple huh?" I cross my arms over my chest. Even if I am grateful, I still don't like that it is that easy.

"I got resources baby," he says with a voice full of humor and a half smirk on his face. I decide to drop it, mostly because when he said baby my heart just about stopped.

I jump in my seat at a foreign noise in the car. It is only my cell phone, which I dig out of my pocket. Jose's name flashes, prompting me to turn the ringer on silent. Christian's gaze on the screen goes unnoticed until he speaks.

"Jose, a friend of yours?" His tone is dark, annoyed. I know immediately he is the jealous type. I don't know how I feel about that.

"The guy from the bar." I don't add the other part, leaving it up to him to figure out.

"The hands-y gentleman." I nod. "Ex of yours?" Right outta left field.

"No, just a good friend," I say with a sadness in my voice. I thought he was anyway. After that night and today, I am no longer sure.

"Good," Christian says as he turns down another street. "How long have you had that outdated excuse for a cell phone anyway?" His ability to change the subject knows no bounds.

"This phone? When you have my limited resources, you make do." I stuff it back into my pocket with a shrug. "It works well enough." There is a frown on his features as I examine his face while he drives.

I notice the car slow and Christian turns into a parking garage, but I miss the building we enter. I watch him enter a code into a number panel and a grid moves up, clearing a path. The parks are mostly empty, yet Christian pulls into one next to an intimidating looking black Escalade with blackout windows; total drug dealers car.

Without waiting for Christian to exit the car first, as soon as he pulls up the parking break, I am out of the car. I stand at the front of the bonnet waiting. The bottle of champagne is cold in my hand, I can feel the condensation dripping near my foot. I shift it from my left hand to my right. As Christian reaches me, he goes to take my hand again but is met with the champagne.

"What is that?" Christian says, gesturing with his hand towards the offending bottle.

"A gift I cannot accept." I am surprised he is only just now noticing it. He doesn't miss much, yet I have had it with me this whole time. I suppress the thought that runs through my brain, the one that thinks maybe he didn't notice it because he was too focused on me.

"And why not?" I have become well acquainted with his annoyed face. It is almost a point of pride, I don't think he hears no very often.

"Not until I know more." He takes it from me, replacing it with his hand.

"Fair point, well made, Miss Steele." With that we are moving through the cars and towards the other end of the parking garage.

"Where are we?" I say and Christian raises an eyebrow at me. I can softly hear his fingers drumming on the side of the champagne bottle in the hand that isn't grasping mine.

"Escala." He looks around, as if seeing it for the first time too. "It is not much, but it is home."

Did he just say Escala, Seattle's most iconic luxury condo tower, wasn't much? I so didn't wear the right clothes, I would look out of place to anyone in this building; you probably have to wear couture to live here. I idly wonder what the going rent on an apartment is or how much a condo costs.

As I see the elevator doors come into view ahead of us, Christian turns to me and smiles as we get closer. I bite my lip as I look at him. I am not sure I will be able to handle an elevator ride alone with him.

"Calm yourself Anastasia," he says with that particular Christian Grey smirk. He really must be able to read my mind. "Can you behave or do we need to take the stairs?" Dropping my hand he presses the up button, watching me.

"I think the question is can you behave?" I say, releasing my lip. The doors open in front of us. He doesn't hesitate one second.

"You have a smart mouth Anastasia," he says as we step in, as he leads me in with a hand on my back. "Are you really questioning my control?" Am I? Maybe.

His hand drops as he presses a button but it doesn't last long. We are both leaning on the back wall when he takes my hand into his. I don't look at him, afraid of what I will see. I question my own control when he begins to draw small circles on the inner part of my wrist with his thumb. My head falls back and my eyes close. A heat pools in my body and I squeeze my thighs together with a wicked, unguarded moan.

"Anastasia," his voice is full of lust but also contains a warning. My eyes open and lock with his. They are hooded and hungry. Just when I think neither of us is going to last any longer, the elevator dings.

The doors slide open but it takes several seconds for me to tear my eyes from him. I draw away first, unable to look into the sun any longer. I gasp at what I see waiting there. Wow, I think I had forgotten just how rich this man is.

I find myself stepping into an all white foyer, the only color being on the glorious paintings on the walls. He really has quite the collection, each wall adorned with would be museum pieces. The first thing that takes my eye as we enter into the apartment proper is the grand piano taking pride of place. Its black surface is, by appearances, polished with love.

"Do you play?" I find myself asking. I watch Christian's eyes travel over to the piano.

"Yes," he says quietly. To me he looks wistful, abandoned.

"Well?" He shrugs and I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes." I watch as he turns from me and follow as he heads further into the room. Of course he plays the piano, probably concert grade as well.

Once I look beyond the piano, I take in the view of Seattle that is probably only rivaled by the view from his office at Grey House. It is truly spectacular and with floor to ceiling glass panels, it has been taken full advantage of. I side step the massive U shaped lounge and follow him into the biggest home kitchen I have ever seen.

Watching him as he walks straight to the wine fridge, he deposits the champagne bottle inside. I slide into one of the six breakfast bar stools sitting along the counter. My elbows are resting comfortably on the dark wood bench top when he turns to me.

"The champagne is not chilled I am afraid." He says with surprising mirth to his voice. It makes me giddy. "Wine?"

"After last time I am not sure I ever want to drink again." I shake my head. I no longer trust myself. Even if that night might very well be the cause for me to have ended up here and now, I don't think I could enjoy it.

"Perhaps never to that excess again Miss Steele," he says smiling kindly. I am not sure I trust that smile. "But one glass cannot hurt." I nod, thinking I may need it after all; the suspense is starting to get to me.

"Thank you," I say which prompts him to grab two glasses from behind him.

"Can I tempt you with some food?" No, I am tempted by something else. I shake my head. "Have you eaten today Anastasia." I make eye contact with him as he rests the glasses on the counter in front of me.

"Did you bring me here to feed me?" I say as he retrieves a bottle from the wine fridge.

"No," he says quickly, filling each of our glasses up. "Can you give me one moment?" I nod again and he walks briskly out of the room.

I take the opportunity to look around the kitchen. The view has been incorporated into the splash back, meaning as you cook you can stare at the beautiful skyline. All the appliances are state of the art, sporting even a double oven. This kitchen would be a joy to cook in, my inner housewife almost screams in delight.

As I have my first sip of wine, which is sweet and goes down without any protest, Christian rounds the corner and sits down next to me at the counter. He slides some sheets of paper towards me. They look like legal documents as they come into my view. I turn and throw a quizzical look at Christian.

"This is a non-disclosure agreement." He takes a long drink from his wine glass. This must be what stopped him from telling me before now, but I still wouldn't exactly call it my written consent.

"You have everyone sign one of these?" I say. He doesn't blink.

"Yes." He shifts in his seat. "I am a private man, I don't like reading about myself on page six." Guess that explains why he is never pictured with anyone.

A lot of the legal jargon goes over my head; I never had any aspirations about becoming a lawyer. However as I skim read over the document I can gather their meaning. Do not, under any circumstances, talk about anything I learn regarding Christian for the duration of our relationship. It is unfortunate for a legal document to tell you that you have a relationship with someone. My main thought is what kind of relationship. I have relationships with a lot of people; will this be the romantic one I am hoping for?

"Do you have a pen?" I say and watch as he slides one towards me. I pick it up from the bench and sign my usual Ana Steele on both copies.

"Thank you, my lawyer insists on it." Christian says as he takes one of the copies from me. It doesn't seem to make him happy, what with the downcast way he looks over the document. I suppose I wouldn't like to be in a position where I couldn't trust anyone, not completely, without a legal document.

"I would never talk about us with anyone anyway. I haven't even told Kate I would be with you tonight." That reminds me, I should probably text her. As I pull my phone from my pocket, I am halted when I notice a small smile has returned to Christian's face.

"I appreciate that Anastasia," he says warmly and I set my phone down forgotten. "I should warn you though, you really ought to read legal documents more carefully." I slide off my jacket and hang it over the back of the stool. Folding my copy, I tuck it into one of the pockets.

"If it were any other billionaire I probably would." I shift on the seat and gather all of my resolve, staring Christian directly in the eyes. He doesn't break the contact, even when he takes a sip of wine. I think he catches my meaning however.

"With that out of the way," he says after placing his glass back down. "I guess we can move on." I can still sense his reluctance to move, to tell me.

"Now you can tell me why you cannot kiss me." My prompt isn't immediately answered. I run my finger around the lip of my glass waiting for him to speak.

"Now I show you why I shouldn't have kissed you." Christian takes what appears to be a shaky breath. "Why I shouldn't have without your submission," he continues.

"Show me what Christian?" He is scaring me now. What about my submission?

All traces of good humor are gone from his face. He stands without ceremony and holds out his hand to me. I take it silently and without question. There is no explanation as I trail slightly behind him. He leads me up the grand staircase, the only sound our collective footsteps on the polished steps. We turn to the left once we hit the landing.

There are a number of doors along the hallway we enter, most closed. Not being remotely rich, I cannot see the need for such a large home. It is the same sleek style as downstairs. I can guess Christian is a fan of the minimalist look but I am not sure that I like it.

Suddenly he stops at what appears to be one in the set of identical doors. He releases my hand, crosses his arms over his chest. I move to stand across from him so I can see his face. It is devoid of emotion but I know it is there under the surface, he is just hiding it from me. A strong part of me wants desperately to reach out and touch him. An even stronger part knows to leave him be.

"Show you my playroom." He answers my question from earlier, talking as if no time had passed. I raise an eyebrow, suppressing an urge to roll my eyes. So much build up for this.

"Your Xbox and stuff," I say confused. This is what he wants to do now. Really?

"No Anastasia." He pulls a key from his pocket and inserts it into the lock. The door swings open and he switches on the light.

* * *

Author's Note:

I still hate myself a little bit for leaving the chapter here! However it really is the perfect place to press pause on.

Chapter Nine may be delayed until this time next week, but I will try to get it posted as soon as I can.

Red Room of Pain, here we come!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	9. Chapter Nine - A Distinction Without

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Nine - A Distinction Without A Difference

Well, I had wanted to know the secret. I couldn't escape it now. The knowledge possessing me, keeping me rooted to the spot. Standing in that doorway, staring at what he had to show me, I will never forget the feeling.

It was beautiful, in its own way. The smell of pine and leather, the sensual reds and browns; captivating in its complexities. Taking a tentative step forward I let my gaze wander over all the room's hidden treasures, digesting each and every aspect. This is the first room in the entire apartment that has, to my knowledge, such ornate furniture.

It is also the only room, again to my knowledge, that contains medieval like torture devices. I slowly walk by the large wooden X shaped cross, which is fastened to the far wall, the mahogany it is made of has clearly been highly polished. The cuffs on each corner do not escape my notice.

I try not to look up, but I catch a glimpse of the expansive iron grid suspended there. It is hard not to notice it and all the implements that hang down like a promise of what is to come. I can feel Christian's intense gaze on me as I reach up towards a whip, sense his body tighten as I let my fingertips ghost its edge. Suddenly he moves powerfully into the room, striding over closer to me.

Moving past him, I let my fingertips trail along the red satin covered bed. It is clearly bigger than a king, with beautifully carved posters on each corner supporting the canopy. Surprisingly I don't immediately find the mood in the room oppressive. There is something oddly sensual about it, but I think that is the intention.

I sense him moving about the room again. I feel him come to a stop directly behind me. My body responds almost immediately. It is betraying me to him; it is recognizing its master. I wish I could hate myself for it but I cannot. This feels far too erotic.

"Say something," he says. His voice hollow, shielding his inner emotions from me.

"You're a sadist?" I say with a whisper.

"A dominant." He pauses and I turn to face him. We are only standing a few inches apart. "A distinction without a difference." I could not hold in the small chuckle that escapes my lips, which dies in my throat as we make eye contact.

"I'm sorry." I don't know why but a latent instinct in me makes me drop my eyes.

"Do you find me funny Miss Steele?" His voice sounds strange, not quite himself, almost more and less in control at the same time.

"On occasion, this definitely is not one of those occasions." I chance a look up at him. His face is stony, battle ready, but his eyes lock onto mine once more.

A silence descends over the room again. Without knowing why, I feel very vulnerable yet venerable as I stand in the middle of his so called 'playroom'. Now that he is standing before me I cannot bear to move away, the desire to explore nonexistent. I know the thing he has been keeping from me, the thing keeping him from me. While he is looking at me like that I cannot figure out if it will still keep him from me.

"Talk," he says as a velvety command, almost a prayer. I don't know if I can fulfill it. I take a few steps back from him, stopping just shy of colliding with the bed.

"I," I start to say but my voice falters. Where to start, so much to say. I grip onto one of the bed's posters, liking the feeling of something solid to hold onto.

"Anastasia?" The tone of his voice is heartbreakingly apprehensive. Here I am standing in a room of his whips and chains, and I suddenly feel like I am putting him through torture.

"Christian." It slips out of my mouth, just one soul crying out to another. Without much appreciation to prior warning, in my desperation, I draw my bottom lip between my teeth. Despite the current energy between us, I still feel my muscles clench when he groans lowly in his throat.

"Please, can we talk in the other room. Having you here is very distracting." His tone is clipped and he doesn't wait for my answer. Instead he moves swiftly back to the door and pivots to hold it open for me; switching the light off once I shuffle past, he locks the door behind us.

I follow closely behind him, unsurprised but saddened when he makes no move to take my hand again. He leads me back down the stairs and towards the lounge. I wishfully stare at my wine still sitting on the kitchen bench. I could probably use it right about now. He doesn't immediately speak when we are both situated on the lounge, close but not too close together.

"Guess we can crack that champagne now." The joke sounds hollow, even as I say it, but I cannot take the silence any longer.

"Good idea," Christian says as I he stands and disappears. Apparently he didn't realize it was a joke. Not that I blame him. I hear it popping from the next room.

When he returns, he hands me a glass. Despite what he has just shown me, I look on in amusement as he tilts the bottle and drinks straight from the source. When he catches me looking, he places it on the coffee table. He sits across from me, out of reach.

"Sorry," he says but doesn't sound it. " "Having you in there affected me more than I would have thought."

I don't know how to interpret that knowledge. On the one hand, it is flattering. It is plain to see that I affect him just as much as he affects me. However we have very different ways of showing it. On the other hand, my quick brain has already connected some dots. He said earlier he shouldn't have kissed me without my submission. Those objects in there, well they are for me.

"So," I begin but falter again. I still don't know how to start this conservation.

"Ask Anastasia," he says. Some of his natural sternness has returned, yet he is looking at me with patient eyes.

"You want my submission?" I say in a rush.

"Yes Miss Steele." I can tell he is suppressing a smile. "Very good." His praise, I am ashamed to say, makes my insides glow.

"And what does that mean?" I look down to where my fingers are intertwined on my lap; I have anxiously begun to painfully twist them.

"It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me," he says with his usually matter of fact manner. "As your dominant."

"Why?" My knuckles have turned white.

"To please me." Involuntarily at these words my head snaps up and I watch as a ghost of a smile touches his lips. Slowly he cocks his head to one side. "More importantly I want you to want to please me."

I stop my mouth from falling open. I very much want to please him. Yet I don't see why pleasing him means that I must be whipped and handcuffed. How would that please me. I take a long sip of the champagne, enjoying his surprise as I bypass the glass he has given me and grab the bottle. Of course it is fantastic.

"And what would I get out of it?" I say as I gently place the bottle back down.

"Me," he says with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

"You?" He nods ever so slightly. Would he really be mine though, sounds more like I would be his.

"It will be a chance for us to explore the world of pleasure and pain together." A delicious shiver runs through my body. I want to explore pleasure with him, it is the pain I am a bit reluctant about.

"But why the need for pain in the first place?" I certainly don't need it, that need is all his.

"'It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure,' Anastasia." Quoting a French Philosopher, really Mr. Grey.

"Marquis de Sade." Almost too quick to notice, one of Christian's eyebrows shoots up in surprise before his expression returns to normal.

"Very good again Anastasia," Christian says with a satisfied smirk.

"Don't forget, I read." I feel very proud of my brain right now.

"This would be a relationship built on trust." He lends forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I trust you; I don't trust your need to hurt me." I mirror his action, bringing us that much closer.

"I won't hurt you." He doesn't blink, his eyes scrutinize me mercilessly.

"But you will cause my pain." He shifts back on the lounge and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I will exert my will over you," he says after a beat. "If you please me, like you have twice now tonight, you will be rewarded."

"I will, will I?" He stands and moves like a predator towards me. He sits next to me again.

"Yes." Now that he is beside me once more, I can feel the heat coming off of him. "But there will also be rules, rules that if broken will result in punishment." He shifts on the seat like he is uncomfortable. "Punishment, if I am doing it right, we will both enjoy."

"Enjoy punishment?" Christian clears his throat lowly but in the quiet room it sounds loud to my ears.

"So much so you will break the rules on purpose." Oh, I highly doubt that.

"So how do we build the trust required for this?" I am mildly touched when Christian suddenly takes my hands, making me stop my anxious fiddling.

"There is a contract we will go over, terms, limits." He releases my hands from his grasp but doesn't move his far. "You would be agreeing to be my submissive, I agreeing to be your dominant."

"What if I cannot do that, be that for you?" I look down, staring at both of our hands. They are so close, yet so far; just like us.

"It is really the only relationship I am interested in having." There is no sadness in his voice at this, only resignation. "The only relationship I am capable of having."

"So submission and contracts, that is my only option?" At least I cannot say he is playing games, he is laying everything out in front of me.

"The only option if you want to explore what is so obviously between us." Okay, there is the last bit of confirmation that he feels the same otherworldly connection I do tethering us together. "This is the only way you can have me."

"We couldn't even be friends?" Even as I say it, I realize it is stupid. I couldn't be friends with him. I want him too badly. This is the first time this has been a problem for me.

"I couldn't be around you and not touch you. I think I have proven that." He moves closer to me on the lounge. I shudder. Has he always smelt this good? Slowly, purposefully, he reaches out and fiddles with the end of my hair. I watch his finger as he twirls a lock around it. "Anastasia?"

"Yes Christian?" My voice huskily responds.

"You were doing it again." I must have been biting my lip again, I really need to watch that. He moves closer still, his thigh pressing into mine.

"What are you going to do about it?" That categorically proves it, I have lost my mind. How could I say that?

"Miss Steele," he says with a growl. "Careful."

"Okay. You still didn't answer my question though." His free hand snakes out, gently grabbing my chin and raising my head so I am forced to look him in the eye.

"Are you trying to distract me, there is still a lot to go over." He pauses; one hand travels higher into my hair, the other deploying its thumb to run across my lower lip. My breathing hitches. "Things we need to know before."

"Before what?" I shift in my seat, bringing our mouths closer. I want to kiss him again. I want to see if anything has changed now I know what I know.

"Before we can continue where you have been leading us since you spread yourself on all fours in my office." I don't even find the memory embarrassing with the way he says it. Finding it instead helplessly erotic. I move forward again. Our noses graze, our breaths mingle together.

"Christian." It is a plea, a desperate appeal. One it turns out he is incapable of ignoring.

He closes the gap, capturing my mouth with his. Within seconds, my lower lip is between his teeth. He bites down, hard. I whimper, which turns into a moan as his teeth release it and he begins to suck it instead. As I go to raise my hands to his chest, he breaks the kiss and moves away again.

"Anastasia, what are you doing to me?" His eyes are full of lust and yet he stands and walks away from me. I follow. I watch as he rakes his hand through his hair, pacing across the clinical foyer area.

"What is it?" I say as I draw closer. He turns and looks at me. I go to reach out and touch his chest but he captures my hands in his, pulling me towards him.

Once again his mouth takes mine. I can feel his need, his desire, all his emotions through the kiss. There is no resistance from me as he gradually starts to back me up. I gasp as my back hits the wall, the pain immediately blocked by the pressure of his body on mine. The reason for his discomfort on the lounge evident, his erection unmistakably pressed against me.

As I imagine the image we must be, practically dry humping in the grand opening of his apartment, I moan. He has my hands imprisoned behind my back against the wall. I am biting my already swollen lip as his lips travel further and further down my neck. He has maneuvered between my legs, creating an awe inspiring friction.

"Anastasia," he says with sex in his voice. I moan again in pleasure as his hands rip open my top, sending buttons skittering across the floor.

Within seconds of the night air hitting my skin, his red hot mouth and hands are warming me. I am completely at his mercy but as he cups my backside and grinds harder against me, I remember that I haven't been as honest with him as he has been with me.

No. I think to myself. This isn't how it is suppose to happen, not like this. If I had wanted it over with, I could have made it happen. I cannot let myself be swept away. Not when everything is so uncertain. Plus he would never trust me again if I don't tell him before we pass the point of no return.

"Christian." Even to my own ears, it sounds like a moan. My voice isn't coming out at all how I want it to. "Christian, please." Still not right. Even as I gasp in a pleasure I have never felt before, I struggle it out. "Stop." I don't think he has heard me and with the last ounce of self control I have I yell. "STOP."

With a speed I wouldn't have been capable of, his lips and hands leave my body. Our chests are both rising and falling together, mere inches apart. It is his face that almost undoes me however. He looks almost broken, wounded. It doesn't last long and then he is stepping back from me, staring off into the Seattle skyline beyond us.

"I'm sorry." My voice is soft, despondent. I was never able to hide my emotions very well.

"Will you please stop apologizing Anastasia," he all but groans. I suppress another sorry. Instead I walk towards him, I reach out to touch his back. He spins and captures my hand. "Why?" He looks like a lost boy. It is chilling.

"Trust right?" My question isn't fully formed but I hope he understands.

"You don't trust me." He releases my hand and stares back at me.

"I have told you I do, it is about you trusting me." Some of the dejected emotion seeps out of his features.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" He sounds anxious, unbelieving. I am touched by his inherent faith in me.

"Not yet. But if we continue where this is going, there might be." His gaze is so intense I shiver, but I don't drop my eyes. I don't want him to think I am afraid of him; I don't want him to think I cannot trust him. "You have told me your truth, I need to tell you mine." I shiver, this time from the cold.

"Can you wait one moment?" He disappears into a part of the apartment I haven't been in. When we returns a couple of minutes later, he is holding a tee shirt. Tenderly he pulls my ruined one from me, letting it fall to the floor. One arm at a time, he then places the tee shirt over my head. "I couldn't think with your beautiful body on display." I blush. I know what I say next will throw cold water over him.

"Christian I want you so badly but I don't think I can be who you want. Do what you want." There is some future where I could try some things with a lover but there is a big reason I am not ready for that just yet.

"Tell me your concerns," he says. With this kind of open discussion I can see how the trust dynamic would work and it breaks my heart. "Tell me what you don't like doing sexually, we can rule out anything you aren't comfortable with." Besides me submitting my entire body for his discretion he means right? Who am I kidding, of course I would be comfortable with that.

"That is the thing, I don't have any idea because I have never had sex." I let it hang in the air between us. Christian swallows audibly.

"You're a virgin?" Thankfully he doesn't say it like a dirty word. It makes me feel less like an oddity. I nod. "How?"

"I was waiting for the right person." I pause. "I was hoping you were it; sure you were it." I recognize that I am about to bite my lip again and resist. I know what it does to him, the last thing I what is to tease him with what he cannot have.

"But now?" His eyes are on fire, I can see the wheels turning inside them.

"I still want you like I have never wanted anyone before, but?" A look of understanding overtakes his face.

"But you need more than I can give." He nods ever so slightly.

"I know myself pretty well, and while I would love nothing more in this moment than to have sex with you, I would need more than to just be your submissive." My body is quaking. I know what I am doing, I am effectively closing the door on us.

"Which I cannot give," Christian says softly, sadly.

"So Mr. Grey I think we are at an impasse." I try my best to make my voice sound unaffected, but I can feel the lump in my throat.

"Quite right Miss Steele." He smiles dejectedly at me. I finally let myself drop my eyes from his intense eye contact. "Do you want to leave right now, I can have Taylor drop you home if you aren't comfortable being around me."

"Not unless you want me gone." I am too emotionally drained to even think about being around Kate and Ethan right now.

"I like having you here." I look up at him as his says this, his face achingly beautiful in its desolation.

"Well surely there is a spare bed, besides the super king in the red room of pain." I could sleep just about anywhere right now, besides the altar of BDSM.

"Red room of pain? It is really more about," he tapers off at the end of his sentence. "Never mind, yes I do."

We once again head up the stairs, after I have grabbed my shirt and jacket. Christian hovers near a room, looks as though he is going to open the door before walking past it. When he finally opens one, I am surprised by the pretty pink interior. There is a white four poster bed in the middle of the room and what appears to be an adjourning bathroom.

"Pink?" I say, trying to break at least some of the tension between us.

"My sister, Mia." He smiles affectionately. "She insisted on having a space in my apartment. I don't think she would mind you borrowing it."

"Thanks Christian." I smile back at him.

"If you need anything, just shout." He goes to leave. "Good Night then."

"Good Night," I say shyly as he closes the door.

It feels strange to be alone in his apartment. Not because of what I know about him now, more in spite of it. I still want to be close to him, get to know him. Surely he didn't wake up one day thinking about how whipping a woman would turn him on. I know he likes to exercise control in all things but this is next level.

Pulling back the covers, after I have removed my pants, I slip into bed. The comforter is plump and smells freshly laundered, oh to be a billionaire. I have retrieved my cell phone from my jacket and I go to look through the messages before settling down further into the comfortable bed. There is only one. It is from Kate.

*Don't think I didn't see Grey's slick R8 pick you up. Get it Girl.* I type out a reply. *See you tomorrow, I won't be getting nothing.* With that, I turn off the phone and place it on the night stand.

As I pull the covers up around me, I try to shut off my brain. No such luck. I know he said that this is the only type of relationship he can have, but he is asking too much of me. Just like me wanting something more is asking too much of him. I stare at the fluffy pink cushion on the chair opposite the bed, wishing things could be different.

I don't sleep, at least not very much. His scent is invading my nose, I suspect from his tee shirt that I am still wearing. I drift in and out of consciousness. My mind continually plagued by images of his secret room. Not all of these images bother me.

It starts softly at first. The little sleep I am managing to get is interrupted by the sweet sound of music. The beautiful, sad, music invades my dreams and drags me back from my restless sleep. Hazily I pull myself out of bed, following the sound to its source.

Wearing only pajama bottoms, Christian's chest glistens in the moonlight as he plays the piano. The sight is breathtaking, heartbreaking. I could have been his and he mine. What might have been, I think to myself from the top of the stairs. With a certainty that he hasn't seen me, I sit on the stairs out of view and listen to him play. He doesn't drop a single note.

After an indeterminable amount of time, my eyes begin to droop. As I lean against the railing, I let my entire body feel the soulful sounds emitting from below. When I stir, being carried by two strong arms, I am resting against a strong bare chest and the music is no more. The warmth radiating from him is pleasant and yet saddening. This is my last chance to be held by Christian Grey and I am not going to let him know I am awake for it. With my eyes squeezed shut, I let myself relax into his hold.

* * *

Author's Note:

Welcome to the Jungle, we've got fun and games! This is the fork in the road I was talking about, but I suspect you all saw that coming! I hope it didn't disappoint! I am actually reasonably happy with how the chapter turned out!

Thanking all of you for your continued support!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	10. Chapter Ten - Bare Face Of The Morning

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Ten - Bare Face Of The Morning

The next time I awaken it is back in the pink domain. Idly, in my still sleep addled brain, I wonder if Christian ever got to sleep. I don't know for how long I listened last night, but it must have been into the small hours of today. There is a slight feeling of embarrassment that he discovered me; I hope he doesn't think I was invading his private moment.

Stretching my arms above my head, I stand from the bed and walk into the bathroom. The face staring back from the mirror is in clear need of more sleep. However I can feel my stomach rumbling, and I realize I haven't eaten since the doughnuts yesterday morning. I try to tidy my hair a little, it is all over the place.; mostly from my tossing and turning, some I suspect from Christian's interference last night.

Sighing, I leave the bathroom after taking care of some urgent business. I turn on my phone while pulling on my pants, choosing to ignore any and all messages. Tentatively I stick my head out of the room once I am decent, straining my ears for any noise. I walk out and down the stairs when I don't hear anything.

It isn't like I am avoiding Christian in his own home, but I am not sure I am ready to face him now in the bare face of the morning. Everything is going to be different. There is no what ifs, only cold hard reality. What each of us wants individually does not work for the other. Even with so much unsaid, I cannot see a way forward.

I head straight into the kitchen once I am downstairs, opening the fridge to try and locate some food. Happily I discover eggs, milk, and bacon. Depending on if he keeps a fully stocked pantry, I may be able to make pancakes. Maybe I can make us both a nice breakfast.

Grabbing my phone and loading up my playlist, I hope that the phone keeps its charge long enough to last through making the food, I turn the volume to low.

With glee I discover everything I require, praying Christian likes breakfast food. I get lost in the preparation, swaying in time with the music. Cooking is usually freeing for me, this time especially so. All of Seattle is waiting beyond me, the awe-inspiring view lifting my spirits. At least I got the chance to make one meal in this glorious kitchen.

Not realizing, but doing it anyway, I have began to sing along to the music I am playing. With the dramatics warranted by the music, I flip the first batch of pancakes and spin. I near collapse when I see Christian leaning against the breakfast bar, a smirk on his face and a single eyebrow raised. I immediately find my phone and switch off the music.

"Good Morning Anastasia." He says it still with that smirk on his face. He looks like he is showered and ready for the day. This is the most casual I have seen him, dark wash jeans and white tee shirt.

"Good Morning Christian, sorry didn't mean to disturb you." I turn the cooker lower, as the bacon is sizzling in the background.

"You haven't disturbed me at all, except maybe a little with your dancing," Christian says and I chuckle. I have never been good at dancing. "I was just doing some work in my office." He gestures to the next room with a movement of his head. "Heard you through the wall."

"Thought we could at least share breakfast before I head back home." I shrug and add the next lot of batter to the fry pan. I try not to focus on wondering how long he was watching me.

"I would very much like that Anastasia." To my shock, he stands and begins to pull down plates and glasses from the cabinets. "Coffee?"

"Please," I say as I continue cooking. I hadn't been game to try making coffee on his complicated looking machine. He sets about making a coffee for each of us as I finish off the food.

We don't engage in much conversation as we eat. I am touched that he remembers how I like my coffee, having provided me with an at home version of a latte. The bacon is perfect, the pancakes fluffy, and eggs delicious. It is almost the perfect morning. Only disappointment is that this will be the only perfect morning we will get.

"Taylor had some business so if it is alright, I will drive you home," Christian says as he helps me clear the breakfast mess. Of course I don't mind, I hope he doesn't think I am uncomfortable being around him now. In all honesty I think that now I know where we stand, I am more comfortable if that makes any sense.

"That is fine, when did you want to head out?" I really thought Christian would be busier. I hope he didn't cancel anything because of me, especially seeing how it all turned out.

"As soon as you are ready to go, you are of course welcome to take a shower." I raise an eyebrow at him as I watch him scrub a plate.

"Thanks, that would be nice." I do feel like a quick shower, it might dissipate some of this fog around my brain. "Too bad someone killed my shirt."

"Sorry that I don't have any clothes for you." He takes the joke like it was intended, which I am glad of. "But there is a hairdryer in Mia's bathroom." He looks at me pointedly. No wet hair for me it would seem. "Go now, I will finish cleaning."

He turns from me and continues to dry some of the stacked dishes. Spinning on my heel, I hightail it upstairs. For a guest bathroom, it is remarkably well stocked. I would love to meet the sister that inspires Christian to buy sparkly pink toothbrushes.

Since I only washed it last night, and despite the numerous knots, my hair doesn't require washing. This allows me to have a quick shower, which of course is still luxurious, and find myself wrapped in a fluffy white towel in no time. I am trying to brush out my hair when I hear a soft knocking.

"Anastasia," says Christian through the door. I am about to yell a response, but he speaks again. "A Jose is calling for you." Shit, I must have left my phone in the kitchen.

"Okay, just let it ring. Thanks Christian." I have left the bathroom and am shuffling over to the bedroom door, that is when the faint ringing sound of my phone reaches my ears. When I hear his footsteps on the stairs, the ringing fades.

Once I have re-dressed in my clothes plus Christian's tee shirt, and frustratingly detangled my hair, I go in search of Christian. He is not in the first place I look, or the second. As I am standing in the kitchen though, I can hear him talking. I follow the sound and locate his home office. The desk does face the view here, all of Seattle is at his literal feet.

"Yes but if a lady doesn't answer the call the first time, perhaps she doesn't want to talk to you." I hear Christian say. He hasn't noticed I am in the room yet, he is turned away from the door. "I won't answer that question, and listen to me when I say don't speak to Anastasia that way." My stomach drops when I realize it is my phone pressed against his ear, the flip flop of yester year most certainly wouldn't be his.

"Christian," I say slightly panicked. "Hang up." He does so, without another word to whomever was on the other line.

"Ready to go home?" He says as he turns to look at me.

"Who was that?" I step into the office and hold my hand out for the phone.

"Jose Rodriguez." Christian places the phone into my palm, I grip it tightly.

"And why did you answer my phone?" I hold my ground, staring at him in the face.

"It kept ringing," he says with a shrug. I snort, in a most un-lady like way.

"And that is a good enough reason?" I cross my arms across my chest. Christian cocks his head to the side.

"I thought it might be important." I watch his hand as he raises it, but it stops just shy of touching my hair. "I apologize," he says, dropping his hand to the side again.

"Accepted." I smile up at him, yet I am deflated that he can no longer touch me. "What question did he ask?" Christian looks confused for a moment, but he quickly catches on.

"He asked something I will not repeat, especially in front of a lady." He says it crossly, indignant. "If he really did ring for your forgiveness, he has a funny way of expressing it. You don't plan on forgiving him do you?"

"I," I say, stammering. I hadn't come to the conclusion myself yet. Christian will have no part in the decision though. "It isn't really any business of yours if I do."

"Fair point, Miss Steele." He narrows his eyes slightly. "Just remember, I won't always be there to stop his unwanted attention."

"I can handle unwanted attention." Usually, I add to myself. That really isn't the issue I have with Jose anymore though. "You don't get to be a virgin at twenty-two and not know how to say no." I smirk, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckles.

"Fair point again, Anastasia. Well made." He shifts towards the door, shaking his head. "Shall I get you home then?" I nod, resigned to our fate.

I take a mental snapshot of the apartment as I trail behind Christian. I will never see it again. The elevator ride is tense, filled with all the desire we both still carry. I keep my eyes to the front, watching the floor count drop. I hear a phone buzz and try not to look as Christian pulls out his cell. In the silent elevator, I can hear him type something out quickly.

We drop below the ground floor, the doors sliding soundlessly open into the garage. Christian clears his throat and gestures for me to exit, which I do. He reaches towards me, his hand ghosting at the small of my back, but never makes direct physical contact.

In the deepest part of my brain I realize he hasn't touched me since last night. Even through breakfast, he was always just out of reach. I know it is on purpose. He is the self confessed master of control after all. I guess it is a line in the sand he has drawn.

I see the R8 up ahead. The spaces around it are now all empty. Our footfalls echo in the vacant area, the door unlocking sounds extra loud.

"Like the R8?" I smile. Christian chuckles as he opens the passenger side door. I slide in.

"I don't get to drive much," he says once he is behind the wheel. When the ignition kicks on, he revs the engine for effect with a wolfish grin. I giggle. "So when I do, I like to make the most of it."

"Isn't that what you have Taylor for?" I am testing the new dynamic between us, still uncertain of myself. I find myself slightly intimidated by him still, but I feel more in control now. He has given me power, power I do not yet fully understand.

"That and other things." Christian is already pulling out of the park. "He is also my head of security."

"Sounds ominous." Of course a billionaire would have some kind of security, not sure I would want to live like that. "Do you have much need for the 'other things'?" I use air quotes around other things, he smiles.

"You'd be surprised." Christian turns the music, which began playing when he started the car, down lower. "Some of the threats leveled against me have been pretty serious." I stare at him as he pulls into a lane clear of traffic.

"Have you even been in real danger?" I sound anxious, I am anxious. We might not be lovers, we might not even be friends, but I don't like the thought of his life in danger.

"No, but only because I have Taylor." He pauses. "At times I still think I am the biggest danger to myself." A solemn expression graces his features.

"How so?" The question slips out, but I hold my ground and keep my gaze fixed on him. He continues to stare ahead, even as we pull up at a red light.

"The past has a way of coming back to bite us Anastasia." I sense I should drop it, but to hell with that.

"At least your past has signed a non-disclosure agreement." Suddenly he smiles, stepping on the gas as the light turns green.

"You have a very smart mouth Miss Steele," he says as his eyes sparkle. "It is too bad I cannot be its master." His voice is beyond tempting, my thighs squeeze with a delightful friction at the sound. I clear my throat.

"Too bad indeed." I once again commend myself on my self control, my pesky and sanctimonious self control.

I pivot in my seat and watch the gray Seattle landscape whirl past my eyes. It is overcast but there is none of the telltale signs of rain. Christian moves in the seat beside me, and the music gradually increases in volume. It is classical sounding, quite peaceful and relaxing.

As we are heading against the traffic, the scenery in front of my eyes changes before too long. I marvel at the greenery of the parks, as it is springtime and the plants are full of life. Washington State and Oregon really are vibrant states to live in. Not that I been to many others besides California, I have never even been outside of Mainland U.S.A..

The dull purr of the engine, the beautiful music, eventually causes my eyes to droop. I don't fall asleep though. Every so often I feel Christian shift next to me. He is clearly restless. I wonder what he does in his down time, you know besides whipping women that is. I don't think he does well standing, or in this case sitting, still.

I try not to let my thoughts overwhelm me, but of course I am not good at that. If there was an Over-thinkers Anonymous, I would be a founding member. Unable to get past the thought of how Christian got started as a dominant, questioning why it is the only relationship he can have, I open my eyes from the safety of silence.

"Can I ask you a personal question Christian?" I don't move to face him, not yet.

"You can ask me anything Anastasia, doesn't mean I will answer it." The turning signal comes on, I watch as Christian overtakes the car ahead of us.

"How long have you been in dominant and submissive type relationships?" I blurt out suddenly.

"Since I was fifteen." He answers quickly, and I think honestly. Maybe a little too honestly.

"Fifteen?" The horror is unmasked in my voice, clearly evident. He nods calmly, calculatingly. There are so many more questions, some that maybe seem too personal. "And have you ever had a regular girlfriend?" I cannot stop myself, won't stop myself.

"That is two questions Anastasia." I snort in derision and shift in my seat to face him. A look of indignation I am sure is on my face. "You only asked for one."

"Seriously with the semantics?" He chuckles from deep in his throat, it is such an attractive sound.

"No, I have never had a girlfriend." It sounds sarcastic, but I realize he is telling me the truth.

"Then how do you know you cannot have one?" He said last night that these were the only relationships he could have, not would have.

"How do you know you cannot be a submissive?" I never said that, but this too is a distinction without a difference.

"You've met me." I am not sure I have a submissive bone in my body.

"I have." He briefly takes his eyes off the road, staring into my eyes as long as he is game while driving. When he looks at me like that, suddenly I am not too sure anymore about how submissive I am.

"I just can't." I want to add 'right now', not the way I am now. I know he will break my heart if I give myself to him, submit my virtue to him. There is no way I am giving him all of me if I cannot have all of him in return.

"Same goes for me." Perfect example of how he could crush me right there; no option for being more, other than being a whipping girl. Literally.

"Guess this explains why you are never photographed with anyone, women I mean." Darn Kate, since the interview I have looked; like her I never found any. I guess I am his type though, whatever that is.

"My private life is just that, private." His matter of fact tone suggests this is something he has said before.

"I cannot even imagine what it must be like." I stare out of the windscreen until I realize what I said could have a double meaning. "Being a notable public figure, I mean." I add after a moment, hoping he didn't think I was talking about his private life. I can imagine that just fine.

"It is not all bad," he says after a beat. I study the side of his face, watch his blank expression with interest.

"No?" Of course there are some perks to being famous; being super rich and gorgeous cannot hurt either.

"I got to meet you didn't I?" I know I must be blushing. Unable to take the intensity, I turn to look out the passenger side window again. "It is just too bad I cannot have you." His voice is soft, low; almost so low I do not know if I was meant to hear it.

I want to say that he can, I want to give in. But I know that I must stand my ground, remember that he cannot, will not, meet me half way. It is all or nothing; I want all and more. Sadly that isn't what he can, will, offer; so it is nothing.

The just beginning to be familiar sights of my new home are whipping past outside the car now. I hadn't realize how close we were to home, how close I now live to Christian. Time flies when you are obsessing over the option to get whipped and beaten. I wish I felt relief when my apartment complex came into view, instead I only feel foreboding.

"I guess this is goodbye," I say as he pulls into the driveway. "Your secrets will accompany me to the grave."

"I don't doubt you Anastasia," Christian says as his eyes search my face. I let my gaze linger, committing his vestige to my very soul. When I can I exit the car, not looking back.

About a moment after I close my door though, I hear another shut. I look over and Christian has unfolded himself from the vehicle. He trails me to the front door, keeping a watchful eye on me as I unlock the door while he leans of the porch railing. I thrust the door open, turning and holding onto the doorjamb to look back at him. He smiles wistfully at me.

"Thanks Christian." I try for a weak smile as I face back at him. He shakes his head ever so slightly.

I cannot fathom why he hasn't left, yet I am glad to have the extra few moments. This is hard, confronting. This is possibly the last time I will call him Christian, it will be back to Mr. Grey. No personal relationship, no familiarity, no first names.

"I am," I say; sorry is the word I am about to add, but Christian cuts me off.

"You have nothing to apologize for Anastasia. Nor do I." He shrugs. "Things just are the way they are, nothing we can do about it."

"I'm still sorry," I say as I look towards the ground. I watch his feet with downcast eyes as he turns and walks down the steps.

"So am I." I faintly hear beyond me, and my eyes snap up just in time to watch him get into his car; the black R8 disappearing down the driveway before I can process his words.

With Christian's parting words stored into my brain for later, I pluck myself up and prepare for the Kavanagh siblings and their well meaning but unwelcome interest in my activities. I really love them, but right now I think I just want to wallow in the sadness that is threatening to overcome me.

"Someone is doing the walk of shame," Kate's voice hits me as I open the door. She is smiling up at me from the lounge.

She clearly didn't believe my text message last night. If only she knew what Christian had offered me, she would be singing a different tune. A vivid image of her storming into his office, whip in hand, pops into my head; I stifle my laugh before it has a chance to form. At least I can still find things funny.

"No walk of shame," I say as nonchalantly as I can. And isn't that a shame, I think to myself.

"Ana, a whole night with Christian Grey." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. "You might be a late bloomer, but my god spring has finally sprung."

"I won't be seeing him again." Her face falls the instant I finish my sentence.

"What, why?" She cocks her head to the side, painfully reminding me of Christian's similar habit. I barely know the guy, yet I feel an ache inside at our parting; I hate myself for it. When did I get this way, or have I always been like this? Falling apart over a man is my mother's thing, not mine, or so I thought.

"We are just two different." Ain't that the truth. "We want different things, and we both agreed it would be best not to continue forward." It sounds like I am talking about a contract, which in a way I guess I am; only Kate doesn't know that.

"So he is all business all the time then? Because it sounds like you are talking about a merger, not a night of wild passion." She really has a point, one that echoes my sentiment.

"Kate, I really don't want to talk about this anymore." I sag against the doorjamb, pleading with my eyes for her to stop being a journalist for one minute.

"Am I at least allowed to ask if he is a good kisser?" I bite my lip at the memory, eliciting a wolfish grin from Kate. "That good huh?" She says eagerly.

"Oh yes." I won't give her details, legally can't anyway, but I can tease her a little. "Sinfully so," I say with a cheeky grin.

"Imagine what the sex would be like?" Explosive, I would guess; punishing I am sure.

"Imagining is all I will be doing apparently," I say sarcastically. Kate laughs, which makes me laugh. It feels good. I was wrong to worry about what my friends would say.

The Kavanagh siblings and I spend the next few days unpacking all of our stuff. Before too long the three bedroom place is ready and looking like we have been here forever. The day before graduation Kate, Ethan, and I drive back to Portland in Kate's car, leaving Wanda in Seattle.

Ethan is refusing to buy a car, claiming he is going to ride his bike to the university. Kate and I have a pool going as to how long that lasts. When we hit Portland, which hasn't changed one bit since we were here, they drop me at the old apartment. Kate grabs her overnight bag and graduation dress; after which they head to the airport to pick up their parents.

It is a shame Kate won't be with me for the last couple of nights here at the old place, but I am hoping to enjoy the quiet for a change. There is no way she could have endured the sleeping bag on the floor, my camping adventures with Ray really paying off now.

As I walk around our empty apartment, I cannot believe I am graduating tomorrow. I will finally get the diploma I have worked so hard for. After that though, there is nothing but a big black hole. I am trying not to get too worked up about my lack of job offers, hell lack of job interviews. It isn't working very well though. The silence not helping my overactive brain, carefully what you wish for.

I don't want to be a burden on Kate and Ethan. We are lucky their parents bought a place in Seattle as an investment, but they are still charging rent; granted it is below market rate. I shake my head in shame. This is the second last night I have in Portland, I will not sit here in self pity. I order some food and read a book because the television is in Seattle, just waiting for me like the rest of my life.

* * *

Author's Note:

That was Chapter Ten Folks! I usually have something to say, but I am tapped out this week! Glad so many of you enjoyed Chapter Nine! Thanks for making me smile!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	11. Chapter Eleven - You Cannot Have Me

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Eleven - You Cannot Have Me

The day doesn't get off to the best start. There is a smash up on the interstate, and Ray is going to be cutting it close. The Kavanagh family has agreed to swing by, pick me up, and take me to the Vancouver. At least I know that we won't be late to the ceremony. Kate has never been late to anything.

I am waiting for them now, admiring myself in the mirror. As my earlier plans with Ray fell through, I have had extra time to get ready. Even though we will be wearing the cap and gown, Kate and I agonized over what would go under them. I landed on a beautiful, yet simple, blue dress. My humbler self wouldn't point out how it brings out my eyes, but on the day of my graduation I am not feeling humble at all.

My phone chirps from my clutch bag on the kitchen counter, interrupting my Narcissus in the mirror moment. It is a text from Jose, simply reading *Congrats Ana*. There is still very much a chill between us. We haven't spoken since he basically called me a gold digger, I don't even own a shovel. I reply, *Thanks Jose*. Checking the time while I have my phone out, a honk confirms what I knew; the Kavanagh family must be close. I lock up and walk outside, smiling and waving as I come up to a rental car.

"Ana, how are you?" Mrs. Kavanagh says as I slip into the back with Ethan.

"Great, where is Kate?" I am surprised to only find Mr. Kavanagh, Mrs. Kavanagh, and Ethan inside.

"She wanted to get another practice speech in, she headed in earlier." Mr. Kavanagh says warmly. I can tell from his voice that he is one proud papa. They are all so proud and so they should be, Kate is valedictorian after all.

"Sounds like Kate." I nod my head, already imagining her bossing around the audio technicians for the ceremony. Those poor bastards don't know what a hard day they have ahead of them.

"Will Ray make it on time?" Ethan says beside me, leaning over closer. He looks different in the nicely pressed suit he is wearing.

"I am fairly certain Ray would build a new highway if it meant he would get there on time." All of the Kavanagh family laughs.

Ethan and I talk Seattle on the drive to the campus, prattling about some things to do. According to him, Kate has some big plans. We come to an agreement that Kate doesn't realize there is only a finite number of hours in a day. He lets me in on a secret though.

"It is a surprise, but for her graduation gift Mom and Dad are taking us on a family holiday to Barbados." He smiles at me cheekily. I am shocked that they all could manage to keep this secret.

"That is awesome Ethan." I slap him playfully on the shoulder. "When?"

"Pretty sure we leave tomorrow morning." My mouth falls open. When this family does something, man do they really commit.

"Shit, so pretty soon." I shift in my seat, I will really miss them.

"Yeah, Dad was a bit worried about timing. He knew she was a lock for that internship, which starts in three weeks." Ethan loosens his tie slightly. "And he wanted us to have a good amount of time together as it will probably be the last chance for a family vacation like this."

"I think that is so nice." I try not to be jealous over my friend's family life, them being so close and all. I wonder what that must feel like. "All her clothes are in Seattle." I suddenly realize, and vocalize.

"Mom has thought of that." He winks. "We were hoping you could drive her car back to Seattle for us."

"Sure, that was the plan anyways." Only Kate and Ethan would both have been with me. I have managed the trip a few times now, I am sure to be fine.

"And remember don't tell her, they are surprising her tonight at dinner." He touches his finger to his lips and jokingly makes a shushing sound. I nod, they are such a wonderful family.

My phone chirps again, this time it is Ray. The text reads *20 minutes out Annie*. I reply quickly with *Roger that, see you in 20*. I relax into my seat, smiling to myself that my wonderful Ray is on his way.

I laugh as we drive into the parking lot; Kate is standing in a prime spot, holding up our black graduation gowns. She is completing ignoring the honks from the line of waiting cars, instead waving them on so we can pull into the park. Tenacious Katherine Kavanagh is about to be released into the world, look out world.

"Hurry up Ana, let's get this show on the road." She says and thrusts my gown towards me as I get out of the car.

It takes about ten minutes to get the gowns on, Mrs. Kavanagh helping Kate and I get the caps straight. She then joins Mr. Kavanagh and Ethan in locating some superior seats. Kate and I are standing outside snapping selfies, making stupid faces, when I hear Ray call out to me. I turn and see him across the square. To my shock, and delight, my mother is walking beside him.

"Mom?" She embraces me, and I make eye contact with Ray over her shoulder.

"Honey, Happy Graduation," Mom says into my hair. Ray is smiling at me.

"Thanks Mom." She steps back, but keeps a hold on my shoulders.

"Now where is the ladies room, Ray here wouldn't stop." She gestures at Ray, who hasn't stopped smiling. I notice he is wearing the tie I got him for Father's Day last year, the one with the little hammers.

"I'll take you Carla," Kate says also looking at Ray. She throws him a smile and turns to Mom, grabs her hand and leads her away.

"That was the car wreck right?" I point over my shoulder towards the receding figure of Mom.

"I took a detour," he says as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Speak." I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a stern look.

"I knew how much it meant for you to have her here." I rush into his arms, squeezing him tight. I didn't have to tell him, he just knew. The Kavanagh family might be the perfect nuclear family, but mine is pretty perfect in its own way.

"Thank you," I say trying to hold in tears.

"Anything for you Annie." He pats my head tenderly.

"How is Bob?" I say as I pull back. He makes a face, I laugh.

"That man would need to go to the emergency room for a paper cut, I tell you." We both laugh this time. "He is okay really. Just a couple of broken bones."

"How did you get Mom to agree to leave him?" I stand on my tippy toes and straighten Ray's tie.

"Bad news, I promised to drive her right back after the ceremony. I cannot take you out for dinner like we had planned." We had planned on steaks and beer actually. Celebration Ray and Ana Steele style.

"That is okay," I smile. "You will just have to make it up to me with a visit to Seattle once I am settled." Ray smiles lovingly down at me.

"Done, Annie." He tucks me under his shoulder and we begin to walk over to Kate's parents, and Ethan who have just reappeared. Once my mother and Kate have rejoined the group, we head inside.

Waving off our families, Kate and I continue the walk up to the front of the auditorium. I take my seat and smile at my best friend as she heads up onto the stage, just glad she is the one making the speech and not me. It is about fifteen minutes before the start of the ceremony, so people trickle in every so often.

I think I know the exact moment Christian enters the building. I feel that weird electrical spark inside me, causing me to look at the stage. I see him shaking hands with Kate, chatting with her a little. I wonder what they are talking about. Suddenly Kate is pointing in the general direction of where I am, causing me to turn my head away from them. I instead look down towards my phone, pretending to be doing something.

"Is that Christian Grey?" I hear a girl say in front of me.

"Sure is." Says another. "I can't believe we get to shake hands with him."

"I wonder if he is single?" The first girl says lustfully. I lean forward slightly, causing them to turn towards me.

"I heard he is gay." I say with an unfeeling shrug. I don't know what makes me do it, and I don't care. I laugh on the inside.

"All the good ones are," says the second girl as I fall back into my chair.

A few more minutes pass, then the Chancellor is stepping up to the microphone. Thankfully we don't have to sit through many long speeches. I sit with rapt attention as Kate addresses us graduates, pride beaming from within me. Public speaking is one of my worst nightmares, but looking at Kate I realize she could be giving the Presidential Inaugural speech and look as confident as she does now.

"We decide every day who we are, and starting today we will always be graduates." Kate steps back from the microphone, the applauds continuing until she has taken her seat again. I watch her daintily adjust her gown around her, looking like a model for a student magazine.

"Before we hand out the diploma's, I would like to introduce Mr. Christian Grey." The Chancellor says once he has retaken his place at the podium. With fixed eyes, I watch Christian stand and powerfully walk to center stage. The Chancellor shakes Christian's hand, then steps back.

"Thank you Chancellor Tasman and Miss Kavanagh for that rousing speech." Christian looks back and smiles at Kate. "We do decide everyday who we are, the good people at this university make sure that we get better every day."

I don't think I am imagining it, but the entire auditorium seems to be sitting up straighter. If Kate looked presidential to me, I could not explain how powerful Christian seemed during his speech. He appeared almost like the Master of the Universe.

"Feeding the world's poor is a cause close to me, having gone hungry myself." I wonder what he means by that. "Profound hunger is something you can never truly forget." Christian's face is animated as he speaks, his passion real. This isn't just some public relations platform. I am again reminded of just how far his resources are spread, how much of his time and energy are spent on things not for himself.

I listen to the rest of Christian's speech, but I do not truly hear it. My mind is going through each of the few facts I do know about him. I remember Kate telling me he was adopted when he was four, I wonder about those four formative years. Who was Christian before he was a Grey?

When the crowd gives a standing ovation, I robotically join in. My eyes are glued to his form, the Adonis with a forbidden secret. There is a long time between being adopted at four and starting up BDSM relationships at fifteen. There is so much I don't know about him, so much I want to know; how can one man exude so much mystery.

The Chancellor and Vice Chancellor stand, starting off the very tedious process of handing out the diplomas. I watch from near the end of the line as Christian hands each graduate their diploma and shakes their hand. It takes some time before we get to the 'S' names, but the delay cannot last forever. As my name is called, and I walk across the stage, I am filled with a sense of foreboding. The second our hands touch, a spark shoots up my arm. His hand tightens its grip and his eyes are aflame when they meet mine.

"Congratulations, Miss Steele." I internally hope he hasn't been talking in that voice to all the graduates, it has me almost swooning right here on the stage.

"Thank you, Mr. Grey". When I go to move, his hand doesn't immediately release mine. Only when I hear the next person walk up behind me does his grip loosen, his gaze shifting to the next eager new graduate. With a grace I pull out of nowhere, I cross the rest of the stage. I think it is because I am on autopilot. As I sit back in my seat, I clutch my degree to my chest. I should be obsessing over my accomplishment; yet all I can obsess over now is that Christian's eyes have followed me, his fixed gaze firmly on me from the stage when I look towards it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and the next thing I know I am sharing champagne and canapés with my parents. We have rid ourselves of our gowns, caps have been thrown and photos taken. Mom is fussing over my dress. It is typical Mom behavior and I enjoy every moment of it.

"It is such a shame it was covered by the gown honey, you look breathtaking." Her fingers smooth the fabric near my hip as she talks. Ray looks lost as he eyes the food tray while it passes by us.

"One of Kate's." I say with a shrug. She is at the next table with her family. I can hear her laughing and it makes me smile.

"We must go shopping, Bob and I are heading back to Georgia soon. You must come visit and I will take you." Georgian summer, heat and mosquitoes, sign me up.

"Sure Mom." I stuff some food into my mouth as the waiter walks past again. "When do you head home?"

"In about two weeks," Mom says with a cheerful smile. She sips some of her champagne.

"Okay, let me know." Ray squeezes my shoulder and smiles down at me. I hope he doesn't think nagging works, bad precedent to set.

"So this must be Mr. Steele and Mrs. Adams." My stomach drops the instant Christian's voice hits my ears.

Ray and I turn; but not before I notice the look of awe on my mother's face, who is looking in the direction his voice has come from. Sure enough he is standing behind me, gray suit and tie, holding a glass of wine in his left hand. He outstretches his right, Ray taking it firmly and they shake.

"Mom, Dad, this is Christian Grey." I say lamely. Frankly I am shocked I can speak at all, when in my mind the words holy shit just keep playing on repeat.

"Oh, honey we know." My mother says, walking over closer. "Pleasure to meet you, call me Carla." She thrusts out her hand, which I watch Christian capture in his own.

"Lovely to meet you Carla." I listen in horror as my mother giggles like a young girl.

"Mr. Steele is fine with me." Ray says gruffly beside me. I internally smile. "How do you know Annie?" Twenty years in the Marines, he is still as sharp as ever.

"Anastasia and I met when she accompanied Miss Kavanagh to an interview." I am sure it hasn't escaped my father's notice that Christian has used my first name, but not Kate's.

"She didn't mention she knew you." Ray says with a skeptical look on his face, aiming it squarely at me. I simply look back at him. If I could have gotten away with it, they would never have known.

"I would have." I feel five years old again, when I brought home a stray puppy that I found. Ray named him Trigger eventually. It only took two months.

"It wasn't that long ago, Mr. Steele." Christian isn't intimidated by my father, looking him directly in the eyes. I know this is sure to earn him a certain amount of respect. "You should be very proud of your daughter."

"We are." I watch as Ray narrows his eyes at Christian, who doesn't flinch.

"Oh Ray, loosen up." Mom has put her arm around me. "Tell us about yourself." Christian makes eye contact with me, I am trapped between my parents. Unable to help myself, I bite my lip. Mr. Kavanagh is the one to save me.

"Mr. Grey," I hear Kate's father say enthusiastically. Suddenly the entire Kavanagh clan has morphed into our little group.

"Can you excuse me, I will be right back." I separate myself from my parents and walk to the bathroom. I notice Kate's concern gaze as I pass her.

I make a beeline for the door leading to the exterior hall, needing some air. Once I am out in the hallway, I take a deep breath. It is quiet out here, calm. I don't know why, but I never expected Christian to make contact after the ceremony. Now he is having wine with my mother and father. It is all too surreal.

For a few minutes I simply lean there, contemplating how long I can get away with staying out here. I am just about to head back inside when Christian walks into the hallway. I observe him look to the right before he turns to the left and spots me. I stand up straighter, but still leaning on the wall, as he walks over to me.

"Your parents are lovely." He stops directly opposite me, his eyes searching my face like they always do.

"Thanks," I say mumbling. As he leans on the wall across from where I am, the distance noted in my brain, I look down towards my feet.

"I feel better knowing you have Mr. Steele looking after you." I ponder telling Christian about Ray's service record, but I decide against it. Better to keep that up my sleeve, including the self defense training Ray demanded I learn.

"I have been looking out for myself for a while." When I look up at Christian, he is stalking closer to me.

"That you have Anastasia." As he gets closer to me I can smell his cologne. My body shivers completely involuntarily.

"Did you want something?" He is standing directly in front of me now, I am trapped against the wall. It is domineering, infuriating and sexy as all hell.

"You." It is a single word, a simple word, and it blows up my entire brain.

"You cannot have me." I stare up at him, not letting my fear win. This man will no longer intimidate me. I should intimidate him.

"I know." His hand is suddenly on my cheek, he is closing in on my lips. The fire behind his eyes is barely contained, pleading for permission.

"We can't." My head shakes infinitesimally.

"I know." He takes my lips, lightly at first. As his other hand comes up to my face, his pressure increases. I have his tie gripped firmly with both hands, pulling him closer.

All thought of where I am, how inappropriate this all is, falls away. This isn't a lustful kiss, not at first anyway. I can feel the longing, the emotion, behind every movement of his mouth. When he bites my lip though, all bets are off. Once I moan as he increases the pressure of his body against mine, I know where he will lead us.

Abruptly I hear a throat clear. Christian steps back with cat like speed. I am left breathless as I turn towards the sound. If my cheeks weren't already flushed from Christian's kiss, I am sure they would be now. Ray is standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Annie," Ray says after a second or two. "Your mother and I are leaving soon, come say goodbye."

"One second." My voice is breathy when I speak. Ray nods, but he doesn't go back inside.

"Told you he was looking out for you." Christian whispers into my ear as I start to walk towards Ray.

"Goodbye Christian." I leave him in the hallway, joining Ray, unable to look back.

"Are you going to tell me about that?" Ray says as we walk through the crowd. I see my mother walking towards us.

"Not with her here." I whisper hastily. Please let him know why I don't want her to know.

"Fair enough, Annie." He smoothes out my hair quickly. "But I expect some kind of explanation."

"Is it windy outside honey?" Mom says when she reaches us. "Your hair is a mess and your cheeks are flushed." She touches my face gently, concern on her face.

"Just the champagne," Ray says with a shake of his head. Mom looks at him funny.

"Okay," she says sounding unconvinced. "Are you coming to wave us off?"

"Sure," I say with a too enthusiastic nod. They both envelop me in hugs before we head to the parking lot.

As I stand on the side of the road as Mom and Ray get into Ray's beaten old truck, I notice it actually is pretty windy. I will never be able to truly tell Ray how grateful I am to have him as my father, how grateful I am to him for taking the time to convince my mother it was worth coming today.

"Love you honey," Mom says as she nearly waves her arm off.

"Love you Annie," Ray calls out to me over the hum of the engine.

"Love you more," I say as they drive off, my heart full but my head uncertain.

* * *

Author's Note:

Wow, the support I have received has been overwhelming! Thanks! I am not a member of the FaceBook group, but a huge thank you to whomever mentioned my story on there. To all the readers, reviewers, followers, favorites and private messages; I am so thankful!

Who loves Ray? I know I do!

I am both excited and concerned about the next chapter. It needs a little more work to get it right. Unfortunately it looks like it will remain at one chapter a week for the foreseeable future. If only there were more hours in a day!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	12. Chapter Twelve - I Am Not Worth It

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twelve - I Am Not Worth It

The Kavanaghs plead with me to come to dinner since my parents aren't here, but I don't want to intrude. Plus, I have had just about as much company as I can bear today. There were a lot of tearful goodbyes and hugs with my former fellow students. Honestly, my brain is fried and I want to sleep.

The drive back to the old apartment is a quiet one, as it is just Kate and I in her car. After she parks in her spot, we head inside to wait for her parents. The only way out of dinner was if we all had a toast back at the apartment where we learnt how to take over the world. Those were Mr. Kavanagh's words, not mine.

"I am going to miss this place." Kate's voice is strangled, strained. I can tell she is holding back tears.

"It is where we became best friends," I say as I turn to face her. I see the tears fall, feel myself swallow my own tears back.

"Where we became sisters," Kate says as she flings her arms around me. I find it hopelessly endearing that she is acting like we are saying goodbye, when it is just this apartment we are saying goodbye to.

"Knock, knock." Mr. Kavanagh is one of those people who doesn't knock, but speaks it. "Stop crying you two," he adds as he, Mrs. Kavanagh and Ethan walk through the door.

Ethan is holding two bottles of champagne, and I notice with a twitch it is the same kind that Christian gave me. Sometimes I forget how rich the Kavanaghs are too. However, they have made Kate and Ethan earn every cent they have ever received; probably why the both of them are so driven.

"Here dear," Mrs. Kavanagh says as she hands me a champagne flute. I smile at her, as it is one of the plastic ones from the ceremony. She obviously planned ahead, knowing we have nothing in the way of glasses here.

We all brace ourselves as Ethan pops open the first bottle, but he handles it like a pro. I let myself smile as we all clink glasses, let myself feel happy and contented. I miss Ray, and my mother, but I let the pang of disappointment pass. They were there when it counted, all thanks to the wonderful Ray.

For the next thirty or so minutes Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh gush over us, and to a lesser extent Ethan. Secretly, I suspect, Mrs. Kavanagh would prefer to have her children a little closer to home. Somehow Thanksgiving plans are already in motion. I see where Kate gets her tenacious planning streak from. Suddenly, as if just occurring to him, Mr. Kavanagh looks down at his watch.

"We had better get a move on, don't want to miss our reservations." He smiles down at his wife, sharing a look I hope to share with someone one day.

"Are you sure we cannot convince you to come dear?" The warm smile on Mrs. Kavanagh's face as she turns to me almost makes me change my mind.

"No, I think it should just be a family celebration for you guys." She reaches over and squeezes my arm lightly.

"Too much Kavanagh for you to handle, hey Steele?" Ethan wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"Never," I say back sarcastically, which only causes him to smile wider.

"I can see these two continuously ganging up on me." Kate sighs as she too wraps an arm around my shoulder. Mrs. Kavanagh doesn't miss the opportunity, begging us to remain in place as she whips out her camera.

"Hold still you three," she says as she frames us up. "And Ethan, stop making that ridiculous face." Once Mrs. Kavanagh is satisfied, Kate goes to grab her car keys. Mr. Kavanagh stops her however.

"Come in our car Kate," Mr. Kavanagh says. "No sense in taking two." Ethan winks at me. It takes me a couple of seconds to catch on. Kate is going to flip when they tell her about the holiday, and they are orchestrating it in a way that they won't have to drop off the car early tomorrow morning. Clever, adorable, people.

"Good idea, I have had way too much champagne." Kate giggles. Probably about five minutes ago the second bottle was opened at her behest. She seems to have the tolerance of an ox, but it always catches up with her in the end.

The sun is just beginning to set as I walk with them outside. The shiny rental car is parked on the curb a short walk away. The laughter hasn't stopped, even as I wave at them as they drive away. I walk inside once their headlights disappear around the corner, the door swinging closed behind me.

It has been a great, if not confusing, day. I am still glad that it is over though. Reaching behind my neck, I start the arduous task of unclasping the fastening buttons on my dress as I walk towards the living room. Freed from my painful heels, I have four out of five done when the apartment buzzer sounds. Kate must have forgotten something.

"Alright who left something?" I say as I pull the door open. My voice dies in my throat when I see Christian standing behind it. He is in the same suit from the ceremony, but the jacket and tie are gone. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone.

"Good Evening Anastasia." My hand left hand is still at my back, holding up my dress.

"Christian." I don't move from the door, but I drop my hand and hope that gravity takes a break.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" His head cocks to one side and his eyes travel over my body, making me shiver.

"I would but there is nowhere to sit and nothing to offer in the way of refreshments." Besides of course the leftover champagne and some stale Lucky Charms. Somehow I don't think Christian is the Lucky Charms type.

"I didn't come here for refreshments." But you have still come for something that I cannot offer, I think to myself. Enough beating around the bush, there will be no beating my bush tonight.

"What was with that earlier today?" I stand my ground, staring at him as he stands there in my doorway. Absentmindedly he runs a hand through his hair.

"As soon as I touched you up on that stage, my ability to influence my actions was compromised." He looks frustrated, but I sense that it is with himself and not me.

"You lost control?" My voice increases an octave at my disbelief.

"Never." He takes a step forwards, I take a step backwards. "If I had, I would have kissed you right there." Sounds like bullshit to me, he lost control of himself and I realize I have power. Whatever power dynamics Christian is used to, I have shot them all to hell.

"You can't do that, do this." I gesture a hand between us and he smirks.

"Can't I?" He can do anything he wants, and I think he knows that from the look on my face. However I truly believe that if I asked him to leave, he would.

He reaches up and buries his right hand in my hair. I can feel his fingers on my scalp; the sensation makes my eyes flutter in pleasure as he begins to tease my skin. I make a conscious effort not to bite my lip. I am already flying too close to the sun; I don't need to create a supernova.

"You are making it hard to say no to you." I lean into his touch like a staved man reaches for food. I am powerless to stop my body's reactions to him.

"That is kind of the point." His left hand is now caressing up and down my right arm. It is shooting tingles all through my body.

"Christian, this is a bad idea." Even as I say it I feel myself take a small step closer to him.

"Stop talking," his lips gaze the shell of my ear as he speaks. I comply immediately to his command.

Before I realize he is going to do it, his face is on mine. He grabs my hands with one of his, holding them immobile. His other hand twirls my hair around it, and he pulls back; hard. It is almost painful, and it is ecstasy when he lets go. I moan into his mouth, causing him to pull again, this time harder.

When his mouth releases mine to trail along my cheek, I take some much needed breaths. I am painfully aware that I should stop him, but my self control must be taking a powder. His lips move to my uncovered collarbone, where he bites down. All thoughts leave my head.

"Oh god," I say as he begins to suck.

"Don't move your hands," he says into my neck. He releases them, and reaches up behind my back with both hands. He undoes the last remaining button and the dress loses it battle with the forces of nature, pooling at our feet. Maneuvering himself backwards slightly, he ogles my pale blue lace undergarments. He groans low in his throat, his eyes going even darker than before.

Moving both hands onto my thighs, he grabs them tightly and hoists me up off the ground. I let out a cry of exclaim, which transforms as my back hits the wall. My legs through their own volition go around his waist, causing Christian to groan at the contact. At the sound I innately squeeze my thighs tighter.

On instinct, I move my hands and grip his upper arms. We make brief eye contract, and I notice a pained look in his eyes before he kisses me again. It is punishingly hard this time, he is taking no prisoners and I push back into the kiss with everything I have.

With my back pinned against the wall, and my legs around his waist, he has free use of his hands again. These he uses to stop my own as I begin to move them towards his chest. As he grinds his lower body against mine I don't question him once again trapping my hands, preventing me from touching him.

The pressure of his body on mine is slowly increasing, and as he starts kissing the swell of my breast I throw my head backwards. I can feel something building low in my body, an ecstasy I can sense coming but unable to control.

"Anastasia, let go." he bites my earlobe, thrusting himself harder against me and pushing me almost painfully into the wall. It is like he has flicked a switch and my body detonates.

"Oh my," I moan, letting my head fall forward onto his shoulder. Without warning, he steps back and spanks me on the cheek of my buttocks. The sting lasts but a second, but it causes me to thrust away from the pain and into the hardest part of him. "Christian!" It is a scream, as I feel my body release again. Unable to stop myself, I bite down on his shoulder. He growls, and rests my back against the wall again. Using one hand he grips my hair, pulling it back to raise my head and make eye contact.

"Baby, you were wound tighter than a steel drum." I think he just make me orgasm, twice. I have no words, how is that even possible? I can still feel his obvious desire pressing into me.

Unable to handle the look in his eyes any longer, I let my eyes slip closed. I feel him rest his forehead on mine; his grip is tight around my body. My breathing is still shallow when he sets me on the ground, I wobble against him. I feel too weak to be ashamed that I am in only my underwear, my very wet underwear.

I hold onto the wall as I walk through the apartment into my bedroom. Christian doesn't immediately follow me, but I hear him clear his throat as I throw on the first clothes I see. When I emerge wearing shorts and my WSU tee shirt, he is standing where our lounge used to be. The expression on his face is one of puzzlement.

"Where is all your furniture, Anastasia?" I smile internally at the concern in his voice.

"We have already moved all of our stuff to Seattle, but I didn't want to drive back today. I have a sleeping bag in my bedroom." I shrug, still trying to steady my legs from their shaking.

"That is no good; you are coming to my hotel." He nods his head, an indication that he considers the matter resolved.

"That is not a good idea Christian, besides I want to spend one last night here." I pause as I watch him look around. "And I did it last night anyways." His eyes snap towards my face, the look of displeasure evident by his frown.

"Please tell me you are at least going to have dinner?" I will never understand how Christian can go from thrusting himself into me while against a wall to a concerned protector in two minutes.

"I was going to drink the rest of the Kavanaghs' champagne and see where the night takes me." As I watch his expression darken further, I remember his words at the ceremony today about hunger. Guilt shoots through me. "Joking, Christian. I was going to order something." I watch as he picks up the open bottle of champagne.

"Very good vintage," he says as he examines it. "You can take the champagne from them, but not me." He places it back down on the kitchen counter, turning to once again look at me.

"They don't want anything from me." Except for me to be happy, I think to myself.

"I don't want anything from you either, just you." He shrugs, the contrite expression on his face not quite landing with me.

"Well that isn't entirely true, is it Mr. Grey?" He smirks, the change to his face immediate at my words.

"Miss Steele, what am I going to do with you?" He is walking closer to me again.

"Christian," I start to say as he reaches me. I raise my hand to touch his chest; he catches it before I make contact. "Why do you always do that?" It is a trend I have noticed. In fact, I cannot really remember ever touching him unless he controlled the motions.

"Do what?" He tugs my hand, pulling me closer. If he thinks he can distract me again, he has got another thing coming.

"You know what." I pull my hand from his grasp. "Why do you always stop me before I touch you, touch your chest." He sighs, long and emotionally charged.

"It is a long story," he says with a step backwards. "One that I don't particularly like sharing."

I don't want to push him; I'm not his girlfriend after all. Never mind the fact that he just gave me a mind blowing orgasm, my first orgasm for that matter. I have no right to demand information.

"Okay then." I let my eyes search his face, disappointed that despite what he asks of me he still doesn't feel like sharing himself. "Guessing it is one of the rules?" He nods ever so slightly.

"Hard limit." His voice is cold, closed off.

"Hard limit?" That sounds ominous.

"Something I am not willing to do." Ah, I think. Torture, check. Touching his chest, forbidden. "There is still so much we should discuss."

This is why we need to keep our distance, I cannot give him false hope I will say yes to his indecent proposal. He had it right when he flatly refused the possibility of being friends, I cannot think straight when he is so near. I can already feel myself falling for him, despite my best efforts.

"It won't change anything Christian." Steele, I think to myself, you just let the man dry hump you into ecstasy; your words lack the conviction they once had.

"I know." He looks past me now, seemingly focusing on a spot across the room.

The absurdity of him wanting me to say yes suddenly hits me. I am not in the lifestyle, not even practiced in the art of sex. I have never been able to give myself so completely to another person, let alone submit my entire self to someone. He has no idea of how big of a disappointed I would surely be. I find myself wondering what exactly his options really are.

"This is going to sound like a stupid question, but is it easy to find women who want to do this?" He raises a single eyebrow, the expression on his face guarded. His gaze shifts back onto my face.

"You would be surprised." I like that there is no pride in his voice, but also no hint of shame.

"How many?" I sound jealous, but I am really not. "Have you had, done this with?" I sound nervous, am nervous.

"Fifteen." He doesn't look away; his way of showing me he has no regrets. That number seems both high and low at the same time. How has a man so beautiful only slept with fifteen women, but also how are there fifteen women who enjoy punishment that much?

"And you never felt anything more for any of them other than the need to dominate them?" I watch him blink, but he doesn't pause.

"I felt protective of them, responsible for them." He takes a deep breath. "But nothing as mundane as love if that is what you mean." Mundane as love? Oh, my.

"I cannot imagine the fifteen year old version of you learning all this." The young mind is so easy to manipulate, so easy to mold. It is painful to imagine how different he could have been.

"I didn't really have your run of the mill introduction to sex, it is true." It surprises me that he is so willing to talk about sex, but not why I cannot touch his chest. "One of my mother's friends seduced me into the lifestyle."

"What?" I can't keep the judgment out of my voice. I don't know what I thought, but of course an older woman got him into the lifestyle. Fifteen year old girls are still waiting for their boobs to come in, not suggesting some light gagging and handcuffs.

"How old was she?" I sound sanctimonious and I don't care.

"Old enough to know better." I am about to ask a follow up question, but he derails me. "She had particular tastes, I was her submissive." Now talk about someone who doesn't have a submissive bone in their body. How on earth did Christian survive being a submissive? Guess he suffered a lot of punishment.

"So, Mrs. Robinson made you the way you are?" I am sure there is a special place in hell for people who take advantage of the vulnerable.

"Mrs. Robinson," he says with laughter in his voice. "That is a good one. I will tell her you said that. She will love it." I feel my face fall.

"So you still talk?" I am not jealous; I am mad and concerned about Christian.

"Yes. She is an old friend." She must have mind control powers or a magical vagina; why else would Christian still be involved with her.

"Your molester is your friend?" I cross my arms over my chest, warding off the dysfunction.

"It wasn't like that." He looks painfully sad in an instant, I want to understand but I just cannot. "She saved me from myself, loved me in a way I found acceptable." I feel my chest tighten painfully.

"Loved you in a way you found acceptable?" I cannot stop it, a single tear falls from my eye. There must be so much suffering behind that controlled facade.

"Anastasia, baby, don't cry." He reaches out, gently wipes away the tear before it falls from the end of my chin. "I am not worth it."

"Oh, Christian what happened to you?" His hand drops from my face.

"I am beyond fucked up Anastasia." He stands up straighter. "So fucked up I cannot stop myself from trying to corrupt you. You are right to steer clear of me." I go to talk, but he shakes his head.

Tenderly he leans over and kisses me softly on the top of the head. Then without another word, he briskly walks out of my apartment. I don't follow, I can't move. I hear the door shut, and suddenly I feel myself give way. Sliding to the floor, I feel the tears building behind my eyes.

It is all so much worse than I expected. It is not that he cannot love; he doesn't believe he deserves love. His heart is encased in steel, protected by the hurt from his past. The tears begin to fall hard and fast, and I make no effort to stop them. I am crying over the boy, not the man.

That night, that last night in Portland, I think I can sense that I will be powerless against Christian's affections in whatever form they come in. I vow to myself to show him he deserves kindness, love. I just don't know how.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hopefully that answers the question about Mrs. Robinson.

I am still not one hundred percent happy with this chapter, and I know some will not like it. Yet Christian is a man who will not be denied, and Ana is a woman who just may be learning what she truly wants.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Journalism Is Dead

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Thirteen - Journalism Is Dead

I think my emails are starting to feel sorry for me. Another 'we regret to inform you' email is sitting in the inbox, informing me of another application that was a waste of time. It seems nowhere in publishing has any openings at this time, each rejection callously using almost identical wording. My first solo week in Seattle is really not going very well.

Setting aside the gut punch that is my job prospects, Wanda has not been making encouraging noises. I think the trip from Portland was too much for the old gal. Almost too afraid to drive with my currently extra limited funds, I have been taking the bus. At least I am getting used to the Seattle public transport system. That is the only silver lining I can find.

It also doesn't help that while I am here despondently applying for every job I can, Kate is constantly sending me holiday snaps. I am not jealous, it is great to see her so happy; but I miss her like crazy. I am lonely I think.

As I file the latest email away, I sip at my comforting latte. I am at the shop across the road from my apartment. Over the past week I have become a constant fixture; free Wi-Fi will do that to a girl. I smile as an email comes through from Kate. I am surprised though by its contents, not being a bikini picture on a white beach like all the rest.

* * *

From: K. Kavanagh

To: A. Steele

Subject: Have you seen this? WTF

Aired last night - Click for link

* * *

I do what I am told, compliance apparently really is a quality of mine, clicking the link as I take another sip of coffee. I cannot stop the coffee as I spit it everywhere onto the computer; I am too shocked by the news clip to care. Oh no, this is not going to be good.

The reporter looking back at me from the computer screen is pretty, blonde, and standing in front of Grey House. There is an image superimposed next to her, of Christian and me. It must have been just before we kissed at my graduation, as he appears to be pinning me to the wall with his body. The eye contact in the photo would be accurately described as eye fucking.

"One is an Accident, Two is a Trend. Three and there may be a problem for the single ladies of Seattle." Her voice annoys me. She is talking like she knows Christian, has a right to his personal life. "Christian Grey, famously single, has been photographed twice with who we believe to be the same woman." Oh shit, twice.

I pull the laptop closer to me as the image changes, going to full screen. I recognize where we are instantly. The car lot at WSU Vancouver, Christian is holding open Wanda's door and looking down at me with a smile on his face. Why on earth did someone take this photo?

"There are unconfirmed reports that Christian is off the market ladies. The lady in his life is reportedly a recent graduate from WSU, and she must be something special to have caught his attention." The reporter's fake smile is getting faker as the report goes on; making my stomach crawl. "Here at Grey House with a broken heart, Lauren Northbrooke."

I shut the lid of my laptop, trying to shut Lauren Northbrooke out of my life. How is this news? Why is this news? It is almost funny how wrong they have it. Sure I caught Christian's attention, but he is very much still on the market. Ladies have at him; but be aware, some S and M required.

As I grab my stuff, and prepare to head home, I idly wonder if Christian has seen it yet. I have no idea how he will take it, as it must have taken some effort not to be seen with any women up to this point. I try not to think about the fifteen women who have acted as his submissive in the past. I have no right to be jealous, but I wonder what they are thinking of the mysterious girl in the photos right now.

Pulling open the laptop again, I Google Christian. The images of the two of us have already worked their way into the search results, shit. They are still the only non business photos he is in with a woman though. I feel special. I head to the register, suddenly needing another coffee. The cute barista smiles at me as I order.

"I'll bring that one right over," he says kindly. He knows I tip if the coffee art is good, even though I can't really afford to. My laptop dings as I sit, signaling an email.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Journalism is Dead

Anastasia,

Any chance you only watch CNN?

Christian.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

This is the first time I am hearing from him since he unceremonious left my apartment on graduation night. I am proud of both of us and our self control. We have been in the same city for a week and no contact, accidental or otherwise. Fucking Lauren Northbrooke just had to go and fuck all of that up. I hit reply.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: RE Journalism is Dead

Christian,

I've seen it.

Ana.

* * *

I minimize the email screen, and start typing out another cover letter. I don't think my heart is in it, because everything is coming out like mindless drivel. I need more coffee. My email account dings again, Christian's fast reply surprising.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: RE RE Journalism is Dead

Discuss?

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

Can he not text like a normal human? One word email, now that is a new one. I can't say that my email was much better though. Suddenly I want to hear his voice, see his face; perhaps that feeling isn't sudden at all.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: RE RE RE Journalism is Dead

I know you have my phone number, call me if you would like.

Ana.

* * *

The barista walks over with latte in hand, surprising me with a white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie. I smile up at him as he sets it down. The top of the foam looks like a little cat face. The one before was a spider web.

"You looked like you could use it," he adds before walking back behind the register. Taking a bite of the cookie, I sigh. I love being a regular. Now I just need to find a good bookstore. When I look back to the screen, there is another email.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Your Evening Plans

Miss Anastasia Steele,

I am currently sitting in a boardroom, with ten men, very bored indeed. So, unfortunately I am unable to call you. Any chance I could take you out for dinner this evening?

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O. barely awake in boardroom nine, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I laugh suddenly at his emended email signature. Even knowing that he has a humorous side, it still surprises me. I wish he would let it show more often. It reminds me again that he is still only a young man.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Any allergies?

Sir,

Being in public is what created this mess. How about you come to my apartment at 19:30, and I will make you dinner.

Ana.

P.S. Pay attention to your meeting, I am sure it is important.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Meeting Still Boring

Madam,

As you wish. No allergies. See you then.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

Excited C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

My stomach flips when I read 'excited' before C.E.O.. He does remember we are meant to be discussing the photos of the two of us? I smile at the email chain, I am excited too. As I drain half of my coffee, I realize I need to go food shopping if I am indeed going to cook Christian dinner. Before I leave the shop though, I email Kate back.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: K. Kavanagh

Subject: Where is my daily Margarita Selfie?

Kate,

Don't worry about me, but thanks for the heads up. When people figure out we aren't together, they will move on. Nothing to see here.

I am missing you like crazy, so you had better have enough fun for the two of us.

Say hi to Ethan and your parents for me.

Love,

Ana.

* * *

Powering my laptop down, and sculling the rest of the coffee, I shove everything into my messenger bag. As I walk out of the shop, I tuck some money into the tip jar as the barista's back is turned. I nibble on the remaining half of the cookie as I wait at the bus stop. What does one feed to a C.E.O. on a shoestring budget? I really should have thought this through before, but I wasn't thinking.

Unsurprisingly there is a light drizzle of rain, and I try to huddle under the awning of the building closest to the bus stop. I really need to invest in a good umbrella, the past week already claiming my one and only to a large gust of wind. With some luck though, the bus comes within ten minutes. As I find an empty seat, my phone begins to ring. There is no caller ID, only a number I do not recognize.

"Ana Steele speaking," I say as confidently as I can. I shuffle along the seat, and lean against the window.

"Miss Steele, this is Elizabeth Morgan. I am the head of human resources at SIP." Suddenly I am completely flustered. Seattle Independent Publishing! I sit up in my seat, clutching my bag tightly.

"Pleased to hear from you, Ms Morgan." I try to keep the excitement from my voice, treating it like I am fending off offers.

"We would love to get you in for an interview Miss Steele." I mentally pump my fist, yes finally. I don't focus on the fact that applying for three months has only yielded me one interview. "When is your next opening?" I want to scream NOW.

"Tomorrow works for me; I would absolutely move things around for the opportunity to come for an interview." Shit, I hope that sounded alright. I am trying to remember the pointers Kate gave me for making a good impression without seeming too eager.

"We were hoping you would say that, make it eleven?" Elizabeth Morgan sounds like a very nice person and I am not just saying that because she is giving me an interview.

"I can't wait." This time the excitement is clearly in my voice, and I don't care.

"Bye Miss Steele." I can hear a phone ringing in the background.

"Goodbye Ms Morgan." Flipping my phone shut, I let the smile spread across my face. I cannot keep myself from thinking that I have taken the first step towards changing my professional life.

Distractedly shopping at the market, my mind runs on autopilot. Subconsciously I decide on one of my favorite meals, roast chicken and vegetables. I make a hell of a stuffing, and I can live of the leftovers for a few days. Sometimes nothing beats a roast chicken sandwich with stuffing for the spread. Feeling a need to celebrate as well, I grab all the ingredients required to make chocolate cupcakes.

Once home my first project is getting the cupcake batter made and into the oven. As their sweet smell filters through the apartment, I put on some music and tidy the already clean living room. With Kate and Ethan gone, with just myself in the space, it hasn't gotten filthy as of yet. However even though we haven't been here very long I am still pleased with how homey it looks, lived in somehow.

While preparing dinner after the cupcakes are finished cooking, I shift between imaging my first day working at SIP and what I will say to Christian when he walks through the door. Honestly, I am lucky I don't lose a finger. I have made this meal a thousand times however, I really don't need to concentrate too hard. Once it is in the oven, I clean the kitchen.

Since the cooking time is long, I hop into the shower as the chicken starts to brown. I will want to wash and style my hair tomorrow morning for the interview, so it isn't a particularly long shower. Seeing as Christian is pretty familiar with me now, and has seen me vomit for Christ sake, I don't agonize over what to wear.

As I am sliding on my favorite, clean, pair of jeans I make sure my bedroom is devoid of mess. Not that I foresee Christian coming into my bedroom, but it can't hurt to be prepared. I pull on my prettiest tee shirt, and decide to keep my feet barefoot. I am icing the cupcakes when I hear the apartment buzzer go off. I hit the intercom and speak.

"Come on up," I say and hit the door release. I unlock the front door and leave it open ajar. I am back at the counter, icing the next cupcake when he strides through the door.

"Tell me you don't make a habit of that?" Christian says as I hear him lock the door and slide the chain across.

"What?" He is standing before me now, watching my hands as they put more icing onto a cupcake. He is likewise in jeans and a tee shirt. He could be a model for Levi's.

"Leaving yourself vulnerable." His eyes follow my right index finger as I lift it and lick the icing off.

"Vulnerable? Really Christian, in the thirty seconds it took you to come up the stairs. So what if I left the front door unlocked, everyone does." I grab the next cupcake, icing it perhaps more forcibly than required.

"You didn't just leave the door unlocked, it was open." I can see Christian run a hand through his hair in my peripheral vision, my gaze remaining on the task at hand. "And you didn't confirm it was me, you just invited whoever was on your doorstep into your home."

"Trust me; no one else is on my doorstep." I finally look up from what I am doing, and look at his face.

"And while that makes me happy, you should still be more careful." I can tell he is serious, but his eyes still haven't left my fingers.

"Do you want some?" I push the bowl towards him. His eyes glance at it, and then he looks at me directly in the eye.

"Chocolate cake is my favorite." It almost sounds accusatory, disbelieving. I smile despite of this.

"Really? I would never have guessed that. Mine too." I watch his deft hand reach out; one of his long fingers dips into the leftover icing. We make eye contact as he sucks his finger into his mouth. I shiver and he smiles finally.

"Delicious Miss Steele," he says huskily. Somehow I am not surprised we ended up here so fast.

"Focus Mr. Grey." I turn from him and begin to stack the cupcakes onto my stand. I try to ignore him as he walks around the counter and stands next to me.

"I missed you," he says softly. My heart most definitely skips a beat at that sentence. I cannot find the courage to look at him though.

"Me too," I say in a whisper I know he will hear. Ever so gently he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingertips ghosting my cheek tenderly. Then he clears his throat and turns to the oven; the moment over, both of us pretending that it never occurred at all.

"What are we having?" He sounds like his usual unaffected self again. I wonder to myself how much energy he must waste on maintaining his facade of control.

"Roast chicken, sorry I am not a real fancy cook." Christian smiles.

"There is something to be said for the home cooked meal, reminds me of my mother." Oh great, I remind him of his mother. That is a bad thing right? "She wants to meet you by the way."

"Me?" Why would Christian's mother want to meet me? When Christian turns to face me again, the smile has reached his eyes.

"Well, her exact words were 'that lovely young girl' in the photos." Oh right, the real reason Christian is standing in my kitchen after all.

"Lovely girl?" It is somehow so old fashioned. I cannot remember the last time I was called lovely, probably when I was five and my eyes took up half my face.

"I think she was surprised it was a girl to be honest." I giggle, so Kate isn't the only one who thought he might be gay.

"Oh really?" I smirk up at him. He has somehow migrated closer to me; we are now almost touching shoulders.

"Apparently in this day and age a man who doesn't like getting his picture taken with his lovers must be hiding a secret." We both laugh, because of course he is. Just not the one everyone seemingly thinks.

"I am sorry by the way," I say as I turn away from him. I slide on my oven mitts, and pull the roasting pan out of the oven. Christian steals a very hot carrot, cocking his head to the side.

"Really Anastasia, you must stop apologizing for things that are simply out of your control." Funny of him to remind me just how much control is beyond us. He puts the carrot into his mouth and eats it. I lean over to inspect the chicken, watch the clear fluid run once stabbed with a skewer.

"You have avoided it until you met me," I say as a turn back to look at him.

"I avoided a lot of things until I met you." I turn from the intensity in his voice, the intensity in his eyes. "How does it make you feel, your face on the news?"

Up until he asked me that, I hadn't really considered it. I was only thinking of how it would make Christian feel. And while I recognized that I felt special being the only woman pictured with him, I also mainly considered how that would make his past lovers feel.

"Strange." I start to carve up the chicken absentmindedly. "Yes, strange because I am only special because of you."

"Oh, Anastasia." He takes the knife from my hand. "Don't you realize, you are special in spite of me."

As I look up at him I see the conviction in his eyes. I wish I could see myself the way he sees me. I wish I could understand what he sees in me. How can a man who seemingly believes he does not deserve love, make me consider it really does exist?

"It seems we never cease to have different points of view Mr. Grey." I watch as the expression on his face changes. The look of admiration morphs into one of disapproval.

"Except on this charge I will not agree to disagree, Miss Steele." I desperately need to change the subject.

"We had better eat before the food gets cold." It is low of me, relying on his abhorrence of hunger. I should hate how easy I can manipulate the situation, but the man literally uses sex as a weapon so my guilt isn't too high.

"Yes, I am curious to see how good your skills are." I am pretty sure he doesn't deliberately clarify he is talking about my cooking skills.

While he sits across me at the dining table, it strikes me that once again the man who claims never to have had a girlfriend is acting in such a domesticated way. I giggle as he adds more potatoes to my plate, not minding his playful pass at dominance.

"That is such a lovely sound." I mirror his habit, cocking my head to the side.

"What?" I smile back at him as I pour myself a glass of water.

"Your laugh," he says simply. I have never been very good at taking a compliment. Somehow he words don't make me uncomfortable however.

"Thanks." I slowly push some food around my plate. "Should we maybe talk about the reason for your visit?"

"The catalyst or the real reason?" Man, it is hard to get a read on Christian. As soon as I think I know when he is going to go left, he stands still instead.

"Pardon me?" I let my eyes roam his face, trying to figure out what he is talking about.

"The photos of us all over the news, which I used as I excuse." He locks eyes with me. "Or the real reason, which I told you earlier." There is a stretch of silence between us for a few moments. "I missed you."

My heart skips another beat, it is a good thing my family doesn't have a history of serious heart conditions. Otherwise being around Christian just may be dangerous to my health, well more than the obvious anyways. I lean my fork against my plate, no longer able to think about food.

"The photos." I can't face the other reason, not yet anyways.

"Unfortunately there isn't much we can do. The cat is out of the bag so to speak." I watch as he continues to eat, feel pride as his eyes slip closed in pleasure. From the satisfied sound he makes, I think I can say he likes my cooking.

"And it doesn't bother you that everyone thinks we are dating?" I hesitantly eat some of my chicken, and damn if it isn't delicious.

"It only bothered me that it might bother you." Quite the pair we are, only concerned about how the other is feeling about the whole thing. "Other than that, I couldn't give a fuck." I think it is the first time I have heard Christian swear, and I can't help but like the way his tongue rolls around the word fuck.

"So there really isn't anything to discuss?" He shakes his head. "So you really just wanted to see me?" This time he nods.

Well fuck me Mr. Grey, truthful to a fault. We both fall into a not uncomfortable silence, both of us just enjoying the fact that we are together. For the duration of the meal I try to forget about all the reasons that we shouldn't be doing this, instead focusing on how having him near makes me feel. He stares at me as I eat the last piece of food on my plate, smiling at me as I sit back.

"What are your plans tomorrow?" He looks hopefully. I think it is an invitation.

"I have an interview tomorrow at a publishing house." I shyly smile.

I am shocked to realize I hadn't thought of that fact since he walked through the door. Something I was so excited about somehow slipped my mind altogether, almost to the point where I wished I didn't have the interview because it means I won't get to see him tomorrow. My god I never say yes to his ideas for plans, maybe I really am in control.

"I am sure you will shine Anastasia." With the way he is looking at me, I am shining already.

Christian eats not one, but two of the cupcakes. I now firmly believe in his ability to love, because he really loves chocolate cake. I insist that he takes home another couple, which I carry to the car. I think he sees through my unwillingness to see him leave again. To my surprise there is no sexy R8 on the street, only a black Escalade. There is a well dressed man with a buzz cut standing beside it.

"Ma'am," the man says in a deep voice as we approach. He nods respectfully at me.

"Anastasia, this is Taylor." Christian is standing at the rear of the car, I in between the two men.

"Why didn't you tell me he was out here?" I turn from Christian towards Taylor. "I could have brought him some dinner." I smile at Taylor, who is very much a man. I clock him as ex armed forces immediately. I feel better knowing Christian has someone like Taylor looking out for him.

"All good ma'am." He doesn't smile, but his eyes crinkle at the sides.

"Ana, please." Surely I am not old enough to have earned ma'am quite yet.

"Miss Steele is the best I can do," Taylor says with a nod.

"Still better than ma'am," I say with a quiet murmur.

"Is it?" Christian whispers into my ear. His chest is touching my back, his hard body only just making contact.

"You tell me sir?" I lean further backwards, looking up at him over my shoulder. Christian's smile is completely disarming. He smacks me lightly, playfully, on the ass. I let out a squeal. His laugh sounds like angles playing music.

I glance embarrassedly in Taylor's direction, but he is looking past us towards the front of the car and is already moving towards the driver's side. Apparently he has mastered watching over Christian without actually seeing anything. I take the opportunity, biting my lower lip teasingly.

"Until next time, Miss Steele," Christian says directly into my ear, having moved even closer to me. I let out a silent moan as his lips touch my neck. He is then stepping back, and walking towards the car.

"Make sure you give Taylor a cupcake." I add as Christian opens the rear passenger door.

"No one is getting your cupcakes, no one but me." He says smiling over his shoulder at me as he gets into the backseat. My head is still spinning as I watch the car pull away from the curb.

* * *

Author's Note:

Lucky Number Thirteen! I cannot believe it has taken this long for Taylor get a word in, I hadn't realized.

I made it a longer chapter just because! Thank you all again for continuing to read this story!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	14. Chapter Fourteen - The Only Deviance

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Fourteen - The Only Deviance

I sit nervously in the chic waiting room of SIP. The surroundings are sparse, but it is definitely a design statement, hipster cool yet not quite minimalist. Ironically it looks exactly how a stereotypical alternative publishing house should, nothing forward thinking for their branding yet cozy in a friendly kind of way. To try and calm my nerves, I am petting one of the two green leather chesterfield couches in the foyer.

After a Skype chat with Kate this morning, we decided that I should wear her blue suit. I think I look smart, but most assuredly too made up to fit in with the SIP crowd. The dress code appears pretty relaxed, every employee I have seen wearing their own style. I feel like the new kid in school who doesn't know what the cool kids are into yet in their new environment. If I do get a job here, I will require a shopping trip with money I don't have.

The receptionist sitting across from me is a young African-America woman, her large silver earrings bounce as she goes about her daily duties. She falls into the bohemian category, and she is more fashionable than I could ever hope to be. For about the third time she looks over in my direction, a friendly look plastered on her features. I tentatively try to return the look with a smile.

Unable to sit idle any longer, I pull out the book from my bag and open it to my bookmarked page. Surely reading when waiting for an interview at a book publisher can't be a bad first impression? Except I am not really reading it, my eyes keep going over the same sentence repeatedly. Trying not to let my nerves overcome me, I take a deep breath.

"Miss Steele?" It is a voice I recognize, must be the woman who called me yesterday. I tuck the bookmark back in place and stand.

"Ms Morgan, I presume?" I thrust out my hand towards her, which she accepts and shakes accordingly.

"Liz please, our acquisitions editor will be joining us for the interview. If you got the position, he is the editor you would be assisting." She turns and gestures towards the hallway beyond.

Once I have collected my book and bag, I follow her into the back offices of SIP. I marvel at how casually the reported head of Human Resources is, even asking to be called Liz. I don't think I will have any trouble getting them to call me Ana here. As we approach a small meeting room I am wondering if there is anyone at Grey House who calls Christian anything other than Mr. Grey.

My inferiority complex hits me again when I walk through the doors. There is a lone man sitting in the room, down one end of the table. He is a very young man to have worked up to acquisitions editor, if that is who he is. Very late twenties to very early thirties is the maximum age I would attribute. I will probably still be looking for a job at that age, let alone be heading up such an important division. He stands once both Liz and I are in the room.

"Miss Steele, I am Jack Hyde." We shake hands, and I am taken aback by his fathomless dark blue eyes as they make eye contact with me.

"Very pleased to meet you Mr. Hyde," I say in the most confident voice I can find.

"Jack, surely." His expression is dark and unreadable, friendly enough though.

"Then I am just Ana." He smiles not unkindly.

"Have you traveled far Ana," Jack says as he once again sits. I follow suit, sitting down in the chair next to him. Liz takes the one across from me.

"Oh no, I just recently moved to the Pike Street Market area." Jack nods his head, the expression on his face lightening somewhat.

"Not far at all then." He shifts forward on his seat, moving his chair closer to me. "Shall we just dive in then Ana?" I nod and we are off.

The start of the interview has me reasonably excited, Jack asking me sharp and intelligent questions. I hold my own, making numerous well executed points. While Jack and I clearly have different preferences in favorite authors, and books, we agree on many important points. We hit a snag about twenty minutes in.

"Other than literature, what interests do you indulge in?" I find the choice of phrase unnerving. Indulge, the implication feels too deliberate for an editor. Coupled with the strange look in his eye, I rapidly feel an unease enter my consciousness.

"For the most part literature is my only concern. I worked in a bookstore, was involved in two literature societies at my university." Wow, until I say it all out loud I never realized how little I do that doesn't involve books. "Probably the only deviance recently from that is when I interviewed a prominent C.E.O. here in Seattle." As I am talking, Jack suddenly looks confused.

"You look familiar somehow," he says after a few moments. Oh shit, my mind goes to the photos. I wonder if he has seen them, wonder if he is connecting the dots.

"I am sure we have never met." If I was uncomfortable before, I am beyond it now.

"So am I Miss Steele." I don't like the way I am suddenly Miss Steele again, it seems too calculated.

"So you really love books then Ana?" Liz says interjecting into the moment, which I am beyond thankful for. I turn to her and smile the best I can in the moment.

"Yes, Liz. I really do." Even as Liz herself asks me a few questions, I am unable to shake the unpleasant feeling settling into my gut. I try to look at Jack as little as I possibly can, but when he adds another question I am forced to make eye contact.

"And where do you see yourself in five year's time Ana?" Jack says with a probing expression on his face.

It is a standard interview question; they want to see how serious of an investment I would be for their company. Yet with the way Jack has asked, it somehow feels like a loaded question. I recognize something in the expression on his face, untempered desire. For fuck sake, am I unknowing wearing a red light above my head? I went twenty-two years without one man interested in me; there must be something I am not seeing.

"I am open to opportunities, but I would love to work with acquiring new talent; championing their writing, something akin to a literary agent." I am talking out of my ass; I don't have enough self confidence to be a literary agent. While it is my true dream to discover a great novel and help the writer share it with the world, I know I will never have the self assurance to pull it off.

"This position would help you with that," Jack says with a self satisfied smirk. "Do you have any questions for me?"

As Jack and I make eye contact, I realize Jose couldn't be more wrong. I cannot be a gold digger. Jack is classically handsome, rich, and powerful in so far as he could further my career; a career that I desperately want more than all the tea in china. However, I sense something off about him; there is something repellent about him to me. If I was a gold digger, a user, I could take advantage of the intent I can see in Jack's eyes.

"When do you require someone to start?" I say and turn to look at Liz as soon as I can.

"As soon as possible," Jack says immediately.

"The position was vacated quite suddenly." Liz adds and her expression is guarded as she looks back at me. I don't know why, but this throws up a red flag in my brain.

"I will be available in around two weeks; I will be out of town next week." The lie rolls easily off my tongue, but I want to give myself time to consider how I would feel about working for a man who makes me so uneasy. Plus, maybe I could make it into a truth and visit my mother as promised.

"Well that is all for now." Liz stands, Jack and I follow suit. "We will let you know when we have finalized the interviews." Liz gently shakes my hand across the table.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Ana." Jack speaks softly beside me as Liz heads to the exit. He takes my hand and squeezes it lightly.

"Thank you for the opportunity," I say as I blink up at him. Turning as soon as it is polite to do so, I rush after Liz down the corridor. I wave to the receptionist as I hightail out of the office building, walking directly to the bus stop two blocks away. I finally relax when I can no longer see SIP.

On the journey home I try to convince myself that I was imagining it. I am not the kind of woman that would inspire that kind of behavior. Jack didn't overtly do anything untoward, and I am not the best judge of character. I thought Jose was a great and easygoing friend, not a jealous man with low respect for the person I actually am.

It is ironic that I sense something off about Jack, but had no sense whatsoever of Christian's kinky fuckery. That alone probably means I still have no idea about how people are in the real world. Jack is probably just an editor who needs an assistant, not a predator looking for his next victim. I wish the real world followed the same rules and formatting as the literature world did.

When I get home I immediately strip off Kate's power suit; as good as it looks, it is simply not me. My anxiety has almost dissipated completely once I am in my jeans and favorite tee shirt. Almost. There is a burning desire to talk to someone, and there is really only one person that I think could make me feel better right now. Since Christian is probably in meetings, I fire up the laptop while I make a coffee.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Future Uncertain

Christian,

I was glad to have your company last night. I trust you enjoyed your extra cupcake?

My interview seemed to go alright, I think I did okay. There was something off about the person I would be working with though. Maybe I am just reading something into it that I shouldn't, but I can't shake this feeling.

Hope your meetings are more stimulating today.

Ana

* * *

I had intended only to put that the interview had gone alright. The words pour out into the email though. I don't know what I expect from him, but I want someone else's option on Jack other than my own. Mrs. Robinson notwithstanding, Christian seems to be a good judge of character. He told me in that interview all those weeks ago that he knew people, and this is what he attributes to his successes to.

It may be unfair of me to assume, but I know what Kate will say if I tell her. She will say that is how the industry works, that she has dealt with worse. While I have no doubt she has being as beautiful as she is, and even if it naive of me to think so, I just don't think that is how it should be. I couldn't handle it on a daily basis, not long term. Perhaps I would be better to walk away from the opportunity rather than risk it becoming a black mark on my record if something were to go wrong.

My anxious thoughts start to rise up again. I cannot believe I am considering turning down an opportunity that I haven't even been offered yet, for an unease feeling that I just may be manufacturing in my head. I grab one of last night's cupcakes, peeling back the wrapper, and bite into its chocolate goodness. My mouth is full when my phone starts to vibrate beside me. Clear as day, 'Christian Grey' calling.

"Hello," I say once I answer, and swallow the cupcake.

"Are you okay?" My eyes close in relief at his unhurried words.

"I don't know." I am surprised by how unaffected my voice sounds.

"Anastasia, talk to me." Christian's concern is touching, surprising but not unexpected. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing really. I am just being silly." I try to laugh it off, because that it what I am being; silly.

"Your feelings are your subconscious mind trying to talk to you. Listen." I hear him sigh on the other end of the line. "Trust your instincts, I know I do." His belief in me, his support of me, makes me instantly feel better.

"Thanks Christian." A big part of me is surprised he hasn't tried to fix my problem, control what is happening.

"Where was your interview today Anastasia." Oh, right on cue.

"I didn't email you so you could swoop in and fix it Christian." Frustration is in my voice, but I kind of like how well I am getting to know him.

"I know. Where?" Now it is my turn to sigh. I debate not telling him.

"SIP." My mouth makes the decision for the both of us. "Jack Hyde." Go big or go home right?

"Thank you for not being your usual stubborn self Anastasia." Even though I feel indignant at his words, I smile because of them.

"Don't do anything Christian." I summon my best assertive voice.

"Would I be so bold?" I can hear the smirk over the phone; I don't waste a second answering.

"Yes." His manly chuckle is a glorious sound. "And I am serious."

"Okay, madam." My muscles clench as his voice lowers. How can he be so sexy even over the phone?

"Very good, sir." I stress the sir. I know he can't see, but I bite my lip anyways.

"You truly test my control Anastasia." I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.

"Christian," I say unintentionally with my breathiest voice. I want to tell him that his proclivities are becoming less of a barrier. I want to tell him that at this point I will take him however I can get him. "Have a pleasant rest of the day."

"All the more pleasant for having talked to you," he says and severs the call.

I stand in the kitchen for a few minutes, staring at the phone. My resolve is really starting to crack. Any more sexual tension and I am liable to turn up on his doorstep with my very own set of handcuffs. I eat the rest of my forgotten cupcake, tempering down one desire with another. The email notification sound filters through my thoughts, and I walk over to my laptop.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: You Are Quite The Distraction

Anastasia,

My apologies, but it quite completely slipped my mind while speaking to you earlier. My mother has extended an invitation for you to come to dinner tomorrow night, in celebration of my sister Mia coming home from Paris.

It would please me to have you there.

Christian.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I have never had a boyfriend, never been a girlfriend. My only frame of reference is novels, movies and those soapy television shows Kate makes me watch that I secretly love. Taking a woman to meet your parents seems like something a boyfriend would do in all of those things, right after the couple 'defined the relationship'. Except Christian and I did that weeks ago, firmly on the negative side. I would bet my almost negative bank balance he has no idea of the mixed message. Maybe he just wants to spend time with me, no matter the implications.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Flattered

Christian,

I would love to. Just send me the directions and the time.

Ana.

* * *

I sit and wait, knowing that he will reply. Perhaps I should feel bad that I am distracting him from his work, but I can't seem to. It is a heady feeling knowing that someone wants to take time out of their day for you, invigorating to know they want to seek you out. A smile spreads instantly across my face at his reply.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Rev Your Engines

Anastasia,

My R8 misses you terribly. We will pick you up at 18:30.

Christian.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

It would appear I have earned Taylor another night off from work, it is the least I can do really. As I hit reply I realize that I have calmed down from my earlier freak out. That is all thanks to Christian.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Day Already Looking Up

Christian,

See you then. Thanks for brightening my day.

Ana.

* * *

Now that my good mood is restored, I drink the coffee I had made earlier. Armed with my laptop, high spirits, and a can do attitude I begin to work on more job applications. When my interest starts to wane, I end up on a flight booking website as I decide on if I will actually visit my mother or not. The prices to Savannah are pretty steep for me, so I may have to ask Mom for a loan. I don't doubt that she will happily provide since it is in order to visit her and Bob.

I realize I will need to call Mom for any of this to happen. It is probably common courtesy to check that Mom and Bob will be home during when I plan to visit anyways. As I go to pick up my phone to call her, it starts to ring. I smile fondly at the picture accompanying the caller, one of the selfies Kate and I took on graduation day.

"Hey girl," Kate says with the most relaxed voice I have ever heard from her.

"Hey Kate," I smile as I speak. "I am missing you."

"I just wanted to check in to see how the interview went?" I can hear more voices in the background. One I immediately place as Ethan's, yet I can hear a young woman's voice that I don't recognize.

"It went okay," I say. I convince myself I am not lying to her. Without the subtext it did go okay, and being an English Literature Graduate I do have a habit of reading far too much into things.

"That sounds convincing." From the years of friendship we have shared I know her so well I can picture the look on her face, it is not a happy one.

"Just me being my usual self." I shrug. When Kate doesn't respond instantly I know she is as distracted by the giggling in the background as I am. "Who is that with Ethan?"

"Someone who wants to be his girlfriend by the look of things." Kate says with laughter in her voice. "I would wager he is down for it." She covers the phone for a few seconds and I hear a muffled fuck off from somewhere in the distance.

"Say hi for me," I say as I chuckle.

"Ana says hi Ethan." Kate says with a yell. "Anyway, how did the suit look?" Kate is almost as good as Christian at changing the subject on a dime.

"Not sure the outfit was cool enough, they are very casual." I start to fiddle with the end of my shirt. I wonder to myself just how casual the business actually is, I wonder what else they let their employees get away with. It is a stupid thought, there is a long way between no set work attire and workplace sexual harassment; not that is what Jack was or is doing to me anyway.

"Oh well, it never hurts to look professional." In this case I cannot agree more. Even if the work environment is relaxed, I want to portray a certain amount of respect for my would be employers.

"I really appreciate you helping me out." It was a shame not to have her here in living colors before my first big interview, but I know she was here in spirit.

"Shopping trip if you get the job?" She sounds keen, excited enough really for the both of us.

"Sure, if my mother doesn't beat you to it." Why does the word beat automatically make me think of Christian now? I am not sure I could be more inappropriate.

"Carla is coming to Seattle?" Kate's confusion is evident.

"No, I am pondering visiting her in Savannah. I think I could use a little sun too." Maybe all my problems will sort themselves out if I just get some distance.

"Darn right girl, you should see the tan I have got going." Katherine Kavanagh happy and relaxed, I sure could get used to this. "Just promise me one thing okay?"

"Anything Kate, you know that." I pause, inhale and then exhale. "What am I promising?"

"Have some fun before I get back," she says with a too serious tone. I resist the sudden urge to tell her I had dinner with Christian last night, and that I will be meeting his family tomorrow.

"I solemnly swear," I say and even though she cannot see me, I still cross my heart.

* * *

Author's Note:

Last Chapter for September! I really hate job interviews, but I hate Jack Hyde even more.

There are a few different directions I want to go with this story from here, I just have to decide which ones I feel are most genuinely Ana and Christian. It is pretty hard!

Next Chapter the rest of the Grey family hit the scene, and we take a trip to Bellevue.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	15. Chapter Fifteen - Palm Twitchingly Mad

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Fifteen - Palm Twitchingly Mad

I stare with a nervous gaze at my reflection in the mirror. I am wearing a navy dress with small white polka dots, which has a conservative sweetheart neckline. The flutter sleeves fall to just above my elbows, the hemline just below the knees. My hair has been slightly curled, and in all honesty my simple makeup worked perfectly this evening. However, I still feel anxious about meeting Christian's family. What will they think of the 'lovely girl' from the photos?

As I slip on my flat white sandals, I wonder if they will think what Jose did. While I put my wallet into the simple white handbag, as well as my cell phone and house keys, I trust they won't peg me as a gold digger. Surely they have a higher opinion of Christian, knowing he wouldn't be taken for a fool so easily. I hope they know I really only want what is best for him and maybe for me too.

The apple pie I made with fresh apples from the market is still cooling on the kitchen counter. I have had to stop myself from testing out a slice, but the whipped cream in the accompanying bowl was not so lucky. I am about to sample another spoonful when the apartment buzzer sounds. I walk giddily over to the intercom, the playful mood seemingly overtaking my better judgement.

"Who is it?" I say into the receiver.

"Christian." Even through the feedback he sounds beyond sexy.

"How do I know it is really you?" He is going to regret the stand he took when he last came over. For as long as I live, I am going to make him work to gain access to my apartment.

"Anastasia," he says. I think he is trying to sound exasperated, but I can hear the amusement beneath it.

"Prove it is really you." I bite my lip, trying to keep in the laugh that threatens to escape me. "Tell me something only the real Christian Grey would know."

"You make delicious pancakes, and chocolate cupcakes." I laugh.

"Any of my friends would know that." I pause. "Try harder Mr. Grey." I bite my lip again, but even that can't keep the cheeky grin from my face.

"You make me harder than a rock and palm twitchingly mad." I inhale quickly, the sensation of him pressed up against me forever seared into my consciousness. Harder than a rock indeed, Mr. Grey. "And only I know how loud you are when you come pressed up against a wall." His voice drops on the word come, making my thighs press tightly together.

I should have known he would be better at this game than me. Pushing the button to release the lock, I give him access to the building. In the short amount of time it takes him to reach my front door, I lower my rising libido; I try to anyway. When the knock comes on the front door I open it without removing the chain.

"Good Evening Anastasia," says Christian's voice through the crack. "It pleases me to see you take my comments seriously."

"One cannot be too careful." I close the door, slip off the chain and open it again. Taking a step back, he enters into the apartment. He is wearing his standard suit, but I watch him slowly taking off his tie. I gulp when he catches me. "How was work?"

"Long." I watch as he wanders over to the counter, watch as he examines the pie. "Apple pie, Miss Steele?"

"Everyone loves apple pie." I smile at him as he turns to me.

"You look beautiful tonight." He catches my gaze in his. The look he gives me makes my knees go weak.

"Thank you," I say and look towards my feet. I can hear slow and unhurried steps coming towards me. I can smell his uniquely Christian scent as he stops in front of me. His deliberate hand gently grabs a hold of my chin, forcing my head upwards. The look in his eyes is beguiling.

"If we are going to spend any time together Anastasia, you will have to learn how to take a compliment better." His removes his hand from under my chin, but I don't lower my gaze.

"For you, I will try." His eyes search my face, the double meaning to my words unintentionally deliberate. I swallow loudly.

"I fear if we don't leave now, we may never make it to my parents." While his words are clear, he doesn't make a move to go. Instead he reaches up and caresses the side of my cheek. My eyes flutter closed, my body inching further towards his touch.

Then as quick as the moment was, it is over. I can feel him stepping back, as always so close and yet so far. I sling my bag over my shoulder, grab the pie and cream, and go to Christian who is holding the front door open for me. He takes the items out of my hands and watches me lock up. We walk in silence down the stairs, silently load into the car and remain consumed by our own thoughts on the drive to his parents' house.

Still being new to Seattle, I haven't been across the lake to Bellevue before. Its reputation precedes it though. However I can't say that the hype truly captures just how breathtaking the city is, how wondrous the views of Lake Washington are. As Christian slows the R8, I turn my eyes to the colonial style mansion we are creeping towards. It is picture book perfect, all the way to the roses around the red front door.

"Ready?" Christian says as he pulls the car to a stop. He leans over, tucking my hair behind my ear. I nod as he takes my hand in his and squeezes it before releasing it.

Balancing the pie and cream in my hands, I wait for Christian to exit the vehicle and come around to my side. He takes the pie, and we head together towards the door. Somehow the house gets bigger the closer we get. When we are within about twenty paces, the door swings open and an elegant woman appears.

"Christian," says the woman in a tone that I could only describe as lovingly. She has sandy colored hair, is wearing a pale blue silk dress and a megawatt smile.

"Mother," Christian says as he steps towards her and kisses her gently on the cheek. I watch as she avoids touching him on the chest during the embrace. Christian turns to me. "This is Anastasia, Anastasia my mother." If possible the smile on her face gets even bigger.

"Call me Grace, please." She walks past Christian, consuming me into a warm hug. She smells like summertime. "Lovely to meet you, Anastasia."

"Only Christian calls me Anastasia, just plain Ana will do." I say as Grace and I pull apart. She gives me a knowing look as she takes the bowl of cream from my hands.

"Well okay Ana, come meet the rest of the family." As I go to follow Grace inside, Christian leans in close to my ear.

"There is nothing plain about you Anastasia," Christian puts emphasis on my name, his lips grazing my cheek as he pulls back and strides into the house. I stand dazed for a few seconds before I push on into the foyer. Christian is waiting there for me with a smirk on his face, teasing bastard.

As Grace leads me through the impressive house, I can feel Christian trailing closely behind me. We enter the kitchen and I see a tall older gentleman, blond and handsome too, standing at the stove. He turns, and I watch his face transform from a look of concentration to one of happiness when his eyes land on me. Grace walks over and tenderly places a hand on his shoulder.

"Ana this is Carrick, Christian's dad." Grace says as Christian comes to a stop directly behind me. Carrick outstretches his hand.

"So happy to meet you, Ana." I find Carrick's accent interesting, I get the feeling he has lived aboard; his speech giving off a worldly quality. I am about to talk when I hear a screech from somewhere.

"Are they here?" These words follow the screech, the voice is extraordinarily girly. I glance nervously behind me at Christian, but feel somewhat better when I notice the cheek splitting grin on his face.

"That would be Mia, my little sister." He sounds grouchy, almost. I examine the undercurrent of affection to his words. His eyes have crinkled, his adoration is evident. "Excuse me." Christian places the pie on the corner and turns from the room. I look back at Grace and Carrick; they are staring at me in wonder.

The three of us follow Christian into the next room, just in time to see the girl who I presume is Mia come barreling into the room. She is raven haired, tall, and curvaceous and I watch her launch herself into an embrace with Christian. He is hugging her tight, but I am too far away to hear the words that are exchanged between them.

"She has been in Paris for three months; she hasn't seen him since before that." Grace whispers in my ear. The way he is acting towards his sister shows me all I ever really needed to know about Christian.

"Mia is in culinary school over there, we couldn't be prouder." Carrick adds. With supportive parents like Grace and Carrick, I suddenly wonder how bad life must have been for Christian prior to his adoption to make him feel so poorly about himself. Before the sadness can descend too far into my mind however, I watch Mia as her gaze shifts from her big brother onto me. She squeals.

"She is so much more beautiful in real life." I hear her say before she crosses the room, throwing her arms around me. Her boundless enthusiasm is infectious; I feel a smile spreading across my face. "He has never brought a girl home before."

"And he isn't really now." I say which causes Mia to step backwards.

"What?" She says incredulously. I look to Christian who has come to stand beside me.

"She isn't my girlfriend." Christian pats Mia on the top of her head. "We are just friends." Grace and Carrick are still smiling. I notice the small shake of Carrick's head. I wonder what they are thinking.

"Right, sure thing bro." The voice comes from behind us, the five of us turning.

"Elliot," Mia squeals again and runs into the newly arrived man's arms.

"My big brother." Christian says to me. Elliot is all tall man, wide shoulders, curly hair, and cheeky eyes. He is grinning from ear to ear, looking at his littlest sibling.

"This is Christian's friend," Mia says laughing. Elliot walks over to me, holding out his hand. I shake it as confidently as I can.

"I don't know what you are doing with Mr. Personality over here, but it is a pleasure to meet you." His eyes have a protective quality that I haven't seen in any other members of Christian's family. It is both intimidating and endearing somehow. Christian seemingly has a wonderful support network.

"Shall we eat now we are all here?" Carrick bellows excitedly. Elliot studies me for another couple of seconds before turning away.

"Sorry to keep you all waiting," Elliot says humorously. The Grey family starts towards the dining area. I go to follow Christian but Mia walks up beside me, linking our arms together.

"I wish I had a friend who looked at me the way my brother looks at you," she whispers directly into my left ear and giggles. It would seem none of the Grey family believes we are just friends. As Christian turns at the door to wait for us, the look in his eyes as they meet mine has me questioning it too.

Carrick gets everyone a round of drinks while we wait for Grace and Mia to bring through dinner. Elliot is quite an interesting specimen, just like his younger brother he has his own business; Grey Construction. I guess the Grey brothers aren't too imaginative with their company names.

"What about you Ana?" Elliot says just before taking a swig of his bourbon.

"I just went to an interview at Seattle Independent Publishing yesterday." I nod to Christian as he stands beside me, handing me a glass of Prosecco.

"That is great." Carrick interjects into the conversation. He is standing next to Elliot, but his gaze hasn't left his younger son.

"You live alone?" As Elliot continues to pepper me with questions, I am getting a firm protective brother vibe.

"No, I have a roommate. She is on holidays with her family in Barbados at the moment though, so I have been kicking it alone since graduation." Christian shifts ever so slightly beside me, moving closer. The warmth from his body is reassuring. "Oh, I suppose I have two roommates now." I had almost forgotten about Ethan.

"Oh?" It is Christian who makes the sound. I look up at him.

"Ethan, Kate's brother, is living with us." An emotion I can't quite place flits over Christian's countenance. "So it is just me and the Kavanagh siblings," I add when I look back to Carrick and Elliot.

"Dinner is served," Mia's voice bellows into the now quiet room. The four of us turn and watch Grace carry in a giant platter of food. It smells divine.

"On the left," Christian whispers into my ear. As he is talking, Elliot and Mia move to the seats on the right side of the table; Carrick and Grace seat themselves on opposite ends.

Christian pulls the chair out closest to his father, gesturing for me to sit. Once seated, Mia waves cutely from across the table as Christian pushes in my chair. I smile back at her and wait for Christian to take his seat beside me. Before I can start dishing out my own dinner, he is already placing food onto my plate; too much food really. The food is divine though, I realize once I take the first bite. Everyone around the table pays their complements to the chef and Mia takes a little bow.

"Daddy helped me a little; he had to watch it all while I got ready." Mia says as she hugs Carrick before she sits back at the table. A wonderful silence falls over the table, and I feel like I am in the presence of a beautifully connected family.

"So, Dad, did you catch the Mainers' game?" Elliot says suddenly. Mia sighs in the most dramatic way I have ever seen. Maybe not connected in every way it would seem.

"I thought we had a no baseball talk at the table rule?" Mia says in a very unladylike manner. Carrick reaches over and squeeze her hand. It doesn't stop him though.

"Not often you get a ninth innings like that." Carrick chuckles as Mia pulls her hand loose. I stare at Christian as he joins in on the conversation, having not realized he was so into baseball. Obviously as well as I think I know him, there is still so much to learn.

"Les hommes et leurs sports," Mia says with a roll of her eyes. I am wondering to myself what on earth she has said when I hear Christian speak beside me.

"Les femmes et leur manqué de respect." Add that to the list of things I didn't know about him.

"English, please." Elliot says with a sigh.

"I second that," I add and for the first time I see Elliot smile at me. A loud ringing suddenly erupts into the room.

"Would you excuse me, that might be the hospital," Grace says and stands. I look to Christian with a raised eyebrow. He leans in close to me.

"My mother is a pediatrician." That piece of information slides into place in my brain, prompting me to wonder how I didn't already know that. If memory serves, Carrick is a prosecutor. Quite the prominent family it would seem.

"Grace never really has a day off," Carrick says beside me, his gaze on the space where Grace left the room. The entire table seems to have paused in her absence.

"No, just having dinner with the family." Her voice filters into the room. She says more, but I can't quite hear. Not that I am really trying to overhear. "Sorry about that," Grace says as she reenters the room a couple of minutes later.

"Another measles case, my dear?" Carrick says as Grace sits.

"No, thankfully. It wasn't the hospital, just Elena." Suddenly I feel Christian stiffen beside me.

"What did Mrs. Lincoln want?" Christian says almost immediately, earning him a quizzical look from both myself and Grace.

"Seemed like she just wanted a chat," Grace says as she looks at her younger son.

"I just adore her salons; we should go together sometime Ana," Mia says looking at me from across the table. Christian shifts in his seat beside me, seemingly uncomfortable. "I have been dying to change my look." I am touched and a little bit excited that Mia wants to spend some time together. I have no idea what on earth has gotten into Christian though.

"I might be out of town this next week, but when I get back I would love to." Mia reminds me of her brother when she cocks her head to the side.

"Out of town? Where?" Mia looks at me with genuine interest in her eyes. I am about to answer when I feel Christian grasp my hand under the table.

"Yes, where Anastasia?" His voice is unchanged, but I can still tell he is irritated.

"My mother lives in Savannah, and I feel a bit of a need to get out of my lonely apartment for a while." As well as away from the oppressive feeling of SIP being my only job option at the moment.

"Oh, I just adore the South. Savannah is meant to be quite hot this time of year though?" Grace says kindly before taking a sip of wine. Christian's grip has increased in pressure on my hand; I pull mine from his grasp.

"Yes, stifling." I reach for my glass, taking a long drink.

"It is always good to see family though," Grace adds warmly. I could really get to like this wonderful, kind woman. In fact I could really grow to love the whole family.

For a few blissful minutes, silence overtakes the table again. We are all enjoying our dinner, well all except Christian. I am slightly worried that he isn't eating much. I wonder what has upset him so. When Elliot finishes first, he starts to regale everyone with his latest construction site mishap. Everyone laughs, again except for Christian.

"Who wants coffee and dessert?" Carrick asks once Christian finally sets his knife and fork down, the rest of us long finished.

"I want a piece of that Apple Pie, when did you get time to make that Mia?" Elliot says while rubbing his hands together. "It is my favorite." How is it possible that I keep making the Grey men's favorite desserts?

"I didn't." Mia says with a shrug.

"I did." I nervously twist my fingers together. "My mother taught me never to go to someone's place empty handed."

"That Southern hospitably at work," Carrick says with a pat on my shoulder.

"I made my famous drunken chocolate mousse," Mia says with a mumble.

"Well that sounds like something I have got to try," I say with a broad smile. "What exactly makes it drunken?" Mia instantly perks up and goes to explain. However, for the first time in over twenty minutes Christian says something.

"While you make the coffee, would I be able to steal Anastasia and give her a tour of the grounds?" He is looking towards Carrick when he speaks, then turns to Grace.

"Sure thing dear," she says as the smile on her face slightly falters.

"Only if Ana doesn't mind if we start eating without her." Elliot says in a far too serious tone for the accompanying smirk on his face.

"No, please go ahead." I say as Christian grabs my hand and stands from the table. I wave at the confused looking Grey family as Christian leads me from the room.

I pretty quickly realize that Christian doesn't have any real interest in showing me the grounds of his parent's house. The pace that he is walking is so fast that if I stopped to look too closely at what is around me, I would lose my arm. I don't have any clue what is going on, but I cannot keep up much longer.

"Christian, slow down." I implore him, tugging at his hand gently.

"Forgive me," he says in response. He sounds tense.

"For what?" As I finish asking the question, Christian bends over slightly and scoops me up. Suddenly, and I don't know how, I am over his shoulder. When my forearms come to rest against his back, he smacks me not playfully on the ass. "Fuck, Christian that hurt." Though, maybe not as much as I always imagined it would.

When he turns, I cannot see the structure he is going into. All I know is that we are suddenly walking through a doorway. In an almost too graceful of a maneuver, Christian places me down onto the ground. I can tell he is irritated, only just barely maintaining his control.

"What has gotten into you?" I say ferociously, staring him directly in the eyes.

"When were you going to tell me that you were going out of town?" He fires back instantly. Is that really what his mood has been about?

"When I decided, I don't even know if I will go to Savannah yet. I might even just go to Montesano and see Ray." I pause and search his face. "It is my decision; I have no current responsibilities tying me down." I mentally face palm, I don't know why I had to use the terminology of tying me down.

"And when were you going to mention that you moved in with a man?" Has he been holding this in since before dinner, seriously?

"How is that an issue, or any of your business for that matter?" I say. My voice is testy, my indignation seeping into my posture.

"If you were mine," he starts to say and for the first time I interrupt him.

"Well I am not Christian." I fix him with a withering stare. "But do you know what I would say to you if you were mine?" My breathing is shallow, pissed off. "Ethan is practically my own brother and this visit home isn't about you. I am not getting away from you. How can I want to get away from you when you won't let me get close to you to begin with?" My voice loses its anger somewhere in the middle, breaking instead into despondency.

"Anastasia," again somehow my name sounds like a pray on his lips. In one fast motion, he claims my lips with his own. I cannot help my baser urges; it is the first time he has kissed me since the memorable night of graduation. I match him in intensity, but when his hand travels up under my dress I push him back.

"Christian we can't keep doing this." He turns from me and I realize we must be in the Grey's boat house, if the canoe hanging from the wall is anything to go by.

"Anastasia I know." I can tell he takes a deep breath from the way his back muscles move. "This is just so difficult. I go back and forth on you. One minute I want to protect your innocence, the next I want to fuck you so hard you know real passion." I internalize the gasp that wants to escape my lips. He turns back around to face me. I can see the internal battle etched into his features.

"Sex isn't the answer to everything." For a second I am reminded of something Jose used to say. 'Sex isn't the answer, it is the question; yes is the answer.' I take a step closer to him. "Control isn't about protecting me, it is about protecting you."

"You sound like my therapist." This time Christian is the one to take a step closer to me.

"You have a therapist?" My voice cracks again, and Christian's sad expression deepens.

"I told you, I am beyond fucked up." He is standing directly in front of me again, both of us moving towards each other in equal amounts.

"Christian," I raise my hand to touch his chest but stop myself. Instead I take his hand in mine. "We all are, in our own ways."

"Don't leave," his other hand comes up to rest on the side of my face.

"I am coming back." Not that I have even decided to leave yet.

"Can you feel how close we are to something?" As he releases my hand and he cups my face in both his, I feel my chest tighten. I nod, and am about to speak when we are interrupted.

"There you two are." It is Elliot with a piece of pie in his hands. "You had better hurry up; half the pie is gone already." I untangle myself from Christian and slide through the door past Elliot. I don't wait for them, instead head towards the light of the house up ahead.

"Alright Elliot, I am coming." I can hear Christian say from behind me.

"You had better marry this woman Christian," I just barely hear Elliot whisper. "She sure can bake." I pick up the pace, the intense moment with Christian enough to process without Elliot piling on. Suddenly I hear a noise from behind me. "Ouch man, there is no need for that." I don't turn; instead I smile for I know at least I am not the only one making Christian palm twitchingly mad tonight.

* * *

Author's Note:

Another week and another chapter!

For you information:

Les hommes et leurs sports - Men and their sports

Les femmes et leur manqué de respect - Women and their lack of respect

My french is not very good! Vraiment désolé!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	16. Chapter Sixteen - Exist

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Sixteen - Exist

The Grey family and I have moved into the far less formal sitting room, where I am currently gushing over Mia's homemade mousse. Apparently Elliot has claimed the rest of my pie, which suits me just fine. Carrick and Christian are happy sipping coffee, while Grace is buzzing around between her children.

"Really Mia, this is simply amazing." I shovel another bit of mousse into my mouth, in as much of a ladylike way as I can manage.

"Aw, thanks Ana." To my surprise Mia isn't eating any herself. "Pass me your phone," she says and holds out her hand. I slide my cell phone from out of my bag, unlock it and hand it over. Mia presses a few buttons, looks at me and smiles. "There, now you have my number."

"Cool," I say as I watch her hit another button. I hear a pop song start playing softly, and Mia picks up her cell from the coffee table. She turns the display towards me; I see my number on the screen.

"And now I have yours." She hits the ignore button, and hands me back my cell. She is looking down at hers, I presume adding my number to her contacts list, when I hear another cell phone start ringing. "That isn't me, I swear," Mia adds as she looks up. We both turn just in time to see Christian's face as he looks at his cell. He doesn't look happy.

"Grey," is how he answers it. I watch with keen eyes as he stands and steps out of the room.

"Talk about someone who never gets any time off," Elliot says with a mumble, his mouth is still full of pie.

"Mouth closed young man." Grace says as she gently taps Elliot on the shoulder. "So Ana, you know how tight lipped Christian is. How did you two meet?"

"It is a funny story actually," I say rubbing the back of my neck. "I sort of, kind of, interviewed him for the student newspaper at my university."

"Are you are writer Ana?" Carrick says with a small amount of confusion in his voice. It seems more than just Christian in this family has an aversion to journalists.

"Oh no, writing is beyond me. My roommate roped me into it at the last moment; I must confess I didn't even know who he was." Elliot swallows dramatically.

"That he is one of the richest men in the country?" He fixes with me a stare. Now it is my turn to swallow.

"Unless he was in an English Literature novel, I never came across him before stepping into that room." Nor could I have ever predicted everything that has followed and the secrets of his I am now in possession of.

"She didn't exactly step into the room; Anastasia wouldn't be as pedestrian as that." Christian's expression is blank when he reenters the room, but he has clearly overheard us. "I apologize, but I have a situation I need to deal with."

"We understand dear," Grace is on him in seconds and kissing his cheek.

"Anastasia," Christian says and I cannot tell if it is a question or a command. Mia hugs me before I stand.

"Wait a minute," Carrick says while holding up a finger. He disappears for only a moment and then reappears with my pie dish as well as my cream bowl. "Don't forget these, thank you for the lovely dessert."

"Thanks for the lovely evening," I say as Carrick kisses me on the cheek after handing me my things. Grace walks over and embraces me warmly.

"You are welcome anytime dear," Grace says and I firmly believe her. As I turn from Grace, I see Christian shaking his father's hand while Mia hugs him.

"Nice to meet you Ana," Elliot says as he once again shakes my hand. He puts his arm around his mother, and they both smile at me.

"Alright, good night everyone." Christian has appeared beside me, placing his hand on the small of my back. They all wave. Christian leads me back through the house and out the front door.

As he opens the passenger side door, I turn back to get a last look at the house and there is the four of them piled onto the front stoop. I wave and watch four hands rise up, waving back. I am smiling from ear to ear as I slide into the seat. Christian is beside me in seconds, revving the engine before driving off. In the rearview mirror I watch the family as they turn and head inside.

"Christian about before," I start to say but I pause. I don't know what I want to say. "I think maybe my trip away is coming at a good time for us, I think if we get a little distance we might be able to see a way forward."

"Sound ominous." In the dark of the car, I roll my eyes.

"We can't keep on the way we are going; this sexual tension is driving me mad." I shift from side to side in the seat. His throaty chuckle reaches my ears.

"You and me both." He takes one hand from the steering wheel, and takes one of mine in his. "So you are going then?"

"Yes, Savannah is lovely." My voice cracks as he begins to draw little circles on my wrist. "Now only if I could actually afford a plane ticket." As soon as I say it, I realize I shouldn't have. Damn him and his distracting ministrations.

"You can't afford the ticket?" His hand stills, his eyes flitting quickly off the road onto my face and then back. "You should have told me things were so bad for you."

"Don't you dare swoop in and try to save the day." I resist rolling my eyes again, I know he is concerned but it doesn't make me feel any less of a failure.

"Too late Anastasia, I want to take care of you." I remember Christian saying something to that effect when talking about his past BDSM relationships. Maybe I should take a page out of Kate's playbook and research more deeply into Christian's lifestyle; I don't think my knowledge base is as well informed as I think.

"My knight in shining armor?" Even to my own ears I sound hopeful and while I don't have damsel disorder, it is nice to be looked after.

"More like dark knight." There he goes again, putting himself down. I think he needs a new therapist.

"How can one understand or appreciate the light if they have never been in the dark?" I intertwine our fingers together and squeeze his hand. He doesn't look back towards me, but I see a small smile play at his lips.

"Let me do something for you, since you already do so much for me." He squeezes my hand in return before untangling our fingers and placing his hand back on the steering wheel.

"What have I ever done for you?" I raise a single eyebrow and study the side of his face. I hate talking while he is driving; I need to be able to see his eyes.

"Exist." I swallow the lump in my throat. Oh my. I feel my heart skip a beat; I think I am losing my heart to Christian Grey.

"Okay, but no private planes." I try to interject some humor into my voice to hide the fact of how much his single word has affected me.

"But my gulf stream is lovely," he shoots back. My mouth falls open.

"You really have a private plane?" Both of my eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. I was kidding. Surely he doesn't have his own plane.

"Oh baby, I got all kinds of things." His cheeky grin does things to my body, so I lean back into the seat and try not to let my self control lose the battle for dominance against my libido.

The trip back to my apartment doesn't seem to take as long as the trip to Bellevue, but then again I was reasonably anxious about meeting Christian's family. That anxiety turned out to be unfounded though, they were simply just lovely. They didn't even mention the press photos once, thankfully.

As we hit the Pike Street Market area, Christian's phone starts ringing. He makes no moves to answer it, instead hitting the ignore button as he pulls up in front of my apartment building. He sighs while he turns off the ignition of the car. Suddenly we are sitting in total darkness besides the small amount of light being emitted from the street lighting.

"Is everything okay?" I pivot towards him, taking in the despondent look on his face.

"It will be," he says as he reaches over and traces the side of my face with his fingers. I move slowly towards him, kissing him chastely on the lips.

"Good night, Mr. Grey." I whisper as I pull back. He doesn't stop me as I turn and exit the vehicle.

I feel a sense of security as the R8 remains there on the curb until I have made it safely inside the building. Standing behind the front door of my complex, I watch the headlights come on and the car pull away. I completely understand why Christian hasn't come up to the apartment with me, he has something important to attend to, it doesn't stop me from wishing me could have anyway.

As soon as I walk into the kitchen with the pie dish and cream bowl, I notice his tie sitting on the counter. I smile as I pick it up, running the material through my fingers. The pattern looks slightly familiar, but I cannot quite place it. Without thinking I place the tie around my neck and tie it in a semi perfect Windsor knot, just like I used to do for Ray.

Since it is still early enough, I settle myself down on the couch and pull out a book that I have been meaning to start. I absentmindedly fiddle with the tie as I sit there, not really able to concentrate on the book at all. This is a new thing for me. Giving up, I gently place the book on the coffee table and reach for my laptop. I am not surprised that there is an email waiting there when I turn it on.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: I Can Take You Anywhere

Anastasia,

You really are a distraction, Miss Steele. I have once again been remiss, forgetting to thank you for spending a wonderful evening with me and my family.

If you were serious about the no private plane rule, then I will need the details of when you would like to fly out to Savannah.

Christian.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

If he thinks I am the distraction, he is wrong. It is still before midnight when I reply.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Only A Loan

Christian,

The day after tomorrow if there is still tickets available. I will pay you back.

Ana.

* * *

I try to watch television instead, putting on a mindless movie to keep myself from waiting for a reply. It surprisingly works better than the book as a distraction away from Christian, and it is much later before I turn to my laptop again. There is reply waiting.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Nice Try

Anastasia,

You will do no such thing. It is a gift Anastasia, perhaps the graduation gift I never got to give you. Now go to sleep.

Christian.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

An evil grin creeps across my face. His reply was from a little while ago. I know it is past one am, and I am hoping he is asleep. That way he won't see the reply I type out until the morning.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: No Refund Policy

Christian,

If memory serves, you gave me a mind blowing graduation gift.

Ana.

* * *

As I go into my bedroom, I finally nestle into bed to go to sleep. I curl into my pillow, not bothering to remove the tie. It doesn't take long for my weary body to fall into a deep sleep. My dreams filled with images of some far away countryside and gray eyes.

Despite my late bedtime, I try to get an early start in the morning. My mother was beyond excited when I called and told her I was coming for a quick visit. However, before I can get too excited about my trip I want to get everything in the apartment nice and clean. I am still not certain when Kate and Ethan will return, but Kate is due to start her internship in around a week and a half.

The kitchen is done, the bathroom done and the bedrooms are done. I miss Kate; she is a wiz with a vacuum. While doing my best slow dance with the mop, I hear my phone ringing. I make a dash for it, hoping it is Christian who surprisingly still hasn't answered my last email. The blood rushes from my face when I see the name on the caller ID, SIP. I swallow nervously before answering.

"Ana Steele speaking." I grip the mop handle with the hand that isn't holding the phone.

"Ana, it's Jack." His voice is as smooth, yet unnerving, as I remember.

"Good Afternoon, what can I do for you?" I hear a quiet chuckle on the other end of the line.

"Well, Ana we have narrowed down the position to two candidates." He pauses, I think for that information to sink in. "I need to get you in for a second interview."

"Unfortunately I am heading out of town tomorrow," I say and mentally fist pump. As excuses go, that is a pretty good one.

"That is okay, I was thinking this evening anyway." Wait, what? "Say, seven pm?" His voice is unchanged, determined.

"Mr. Hyde," I say as I increase my grip on the mop. How do I tactfully turn this down?

"Jack, please." Suddenly his tone is light, almost seductive.

"That seems like a highly unusual time for an interview." I keep my manner respectful, formal.

"I need a decision made," Jack's voice changes again. He is just this side of sounding indignant. "Meet me at SIP at seven." With that he ends the call.

I stand in the middle of my living room, holding onto the mop and staring at my phone. A second interview seems like a reasonable enough request. Yet, I am seeing more red flags then a Cardinals' game. Letting out a sigh, I place my cell back onto the coffee table and finish the cleaning. My good mood is gone.

At 18:45 I am stepping off the bus around the corner from the SIP offices. I observe the mostly dark building as I approach, looking both ways before crossing the street. Everything about this situation seems suspicious. My better judgment is telling me to turn and run.

One stupid, conceited, thought propels me forwards towards the door; would this bother me if I were a man? How naive I am, it is embarrassing. I am about to push open the front open when it springs open from the inside. It is Jack, holding a large beaten brown suitcase.

"Ana, Good Evening." He steps towards me as if to come in to kiss my cheek but I tactfully shift backwards, making it seem like I was simply allowing him to exit the building.

"Mr. Hyde," I say with a curt nod. I am going to keep this as professional as I can.

"Since we will be working so closely together, I wanted to see what the dynamic would be outside of the office." I do not like the sound of that.

"We aren't going inside?" I cock my head to the side, my hair tumbling around my shoulders.

"No, there is a cute little Pub around the corner I thought would be better." He is making direct, personal, eye contact with me. I suppress my desire to drop my gaze.

Now is my chance to tell him this makes me uncomfortable. If he is the man of authority that he presents himself as, he will accept this. However, I don't have the courage to vocalize my uneasiness. Plus this really is the perfect opportunity work wise for my professional life; I am still having a hard time letting the chance slip past me because I cannot see past my own prejudices.

While I have been having my internal mental struggle, Jack has already headed off down the path. I trail reluctantly behind him, surprised when the destination is no more than a block away. He holds open the door, waiting for me to enter before him. As I walk in I am glad to see it seems like a nice enough establishment, yet there isn't too many patrons.

"What will you have?" I shake my head.

"That is okay Mr. Hyde. What can I get you?" I try and smile at him, his expression clearly pleased.

"Scotch on the rocks." He turns from me and heads to one of the back tables. I head up to the bar and order his drink, simply getting myself a plain coke. As I carefully walk the drinks to the table, I wonder to myself how I ended up here.

Jack is looking through some papers, which he quickly stuffs back into his briefcase when I reach the table. He drains about half the glass as I sit down across from him. I trace the top of my glass with my finger, wondering how long I have to stay to not be considered rude. After about a minute, Jack clears his throat loudly.

"Long day at the office," Jack says as he rattles his glass. "You need dedication in this job Ana. Do you think you have what it takes to submit yourself fully to your work?"

There is my overactive brain again, picking up on his use of the word submit. For some reason when Christian says that word, I believe it is still a synonym for consent. Yet, from Jack all I hear is surrender. I take a sip of my drink before answering.

"I find dedication to things I am passionate about comes naturally to me." The cool of the glass in my hands feels comforting, normal; I feel somewhat more defiant because of it.

"I like that Ana." Jack shifts forward in his seat. "Tell me, how serious are you about your career Ana?" His locks eyes with me, I am caught in his penetrating gaze. "Would you do anything for it?" Suddenly his hand is on my knee beneath the table, causing me to stand violently. He follows my action, stepping towards me.

"Mr. Hyde if you won't employ me on my merits, than I don't want the job." As he takes another step closer, I put a hand on his chest in a stopping motion. I am between him and the wall, unable to move backwards.

"Oh, your merits are quite obvious Miss Steele." His gaze shifts from my face, trailing my body. I take my hand off of him, as if burnt. "I just thought you might want to show your aptitude to secure your future."

With a clear mind, I know with one hundred per cent certainty he has done this before. While his words show their true meaning to me, I believe he could justify them to his higher ups as above board or a misunderstanding. Intelligence is not always used for good. Something else I know for certain, even if this is a stepping stone towards my dream I will not submit; Anastasia Steele does not surrender.

"My future is secure and will remain so without lowering myself to your standards." I cross my hands over my chest, my displeasure palpable.

"I suppose that isn't what you said to Christian Grey." Venom is in his voice, and that frightens me more than his close proximity. As his right hand touches the small of my back, my mind hits the metaphorical eject button.

"I must respectfully withdraw my application." I push past him, his hand falling away. "Goodbye Mr. Hyde."

I resist the urge to look back as I walk away, I am just glad he lets me go. The bartender nods at me as I walk past, I return his gesture. When the cool night air hits me outside, I take in a deep breath. I have my answer, Seattle Independent Publishing is not going to be in my future. Jack Hyde can go home and fuck himself, secure that future all on his own.

It is a nervous wait at the bus stop, making me realize I need to get Wanda looked at. A car would be more than beneficial right now. When I get home, I shower straight away. I pull on my sweats, crawling into bed. I am hungry, but I don't eat. Instead I lay there lamenting that my career is going nowhere fast. I almost scream when my phone starts vibrating next to my head. I feel the warmth spread through my body when I see who is calling.

"Anastasia, how was your day?" Christian's velvet voice meets my ears when I answer the phone. I take a deep calming breath before I answer him, making a fast decision.

"Boring, I spent the day cleaning." While thinking about you. Well before a certain book publisher ruined my day.

"I spent the day thinking about caps and gowns." I smile as I know he is referring to my last email. "It kept my mind on better things, more stimulating things." Stimulating indeed, Mr. Grey.

"Graduation Day a fantasy of yours now?" Maybe it is because of the day I have had, or that I am laying in bed, but the filter between my brain and my mouth is switched off.

"Completing a lady's education could be." I swallow, hard. A change of subject is required before the throbbing in between my legs gets any more intense.

"How did your situation go last night?" I hope my concern, and interest, is clear in my voice; I hope it completely covers my lust.

"Handled for now," he says before sighing heavily. Whatever pulled him away from family dinner is still clearly affecting him.

"I wish there was something I could do." I fiddle idly with my blanket.

"Oh baby, trust me you do." I bite my lip, sitting up in bed. "Before I let you distract me, again, I did have a reason for interrupting your night."

"You can interrupt my night anytime." When, and how, did I get so bold? I think I like it.

"I just may take you up on that Anastasia Steele." My muscles do that delicious clenching thing that I am beginning to get quite addicted to. Who needs hard drugs when Christian Grey purrs in your ear.

"Okay, why am I receiving the pleasure that is your phone call?" I can see the both of us getting very distracted, this time probably it is my fault.

"I have booked you a ticket to Savannah, on a domestic flight." I giggle when he stresses the word domestic.

"I really do appreciate it, thanks Christian." I shift positions on my bed, flicking on the lamp. "What time?" I scribble the details he gives me onto the notebook I keep in my bedside drawers. "Looks like I have an early day tomorrow."

"Yes, you should be getting to sleep." I can hear him moving papers around, causing me to wonder where he is. "Be safe, Anastasia." The tone of his voice is strict, in a wildly sexy kind of way.

"I will let you know when I arrive." When I first met him I may have responded meekly, shyly; now I treat his quasi command with due deference but with equal amounts of self respect.

"I am going to hold you to that." We both sit on the line for a couple of minutes, clear that neither wants to end the call.

"Good Night Christian." It doesn't surprise me that I am the first one to yield.

"Sweet Dreams Anastasia," he murmurs mischievously.

* * *

Author's Note:

I am dreadfully behind, but I haven't missed a week yet! Not totally happy with this chapter, and it was a bit of a quick edit so I hope there isn't too many errors! Sorry in advance!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	17. Chapter Seventeen - Whatever You Want

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Seventeen - Whatever You Want

When Taylor appears at my front door in the morning, I think Christian must have somehow found out about last night. He doesn't buzz the intercom, only softly knocks on my front door. As ever he is wearing a crisply pressed black suit, white shirt, and black tie. In his hands is a latte, my new hero.

"Taylor?" The surprise is evident on my face I think when I greet him. He passes me the latte and I take a delicious sip.

"Miss Steele, I am here to bring you to the airport." Oh, makes sense. My duffle bag is sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen. I had the bus schedule open on my phone.

"Thanks, I didn't realize." Taylor nods. I don't know why I am surprised; I should have known Christian would make sure I had a ride to the airport. "How did you get up here?" I say after another sip of the latte.

"There isn't a building I can't gain access to Miss Steele," he says and I think I see the beginnings of a smile.

"Well, let me just grab my bag and we can go Mr. Bond." As I step back and turn from Taylor, I think I hear a small laugh. "And maybe while Christian isn't here I could talk you into calling me Ana?" As I walk back to the front door, Taylor steps forward and takes my bag from me.

"I will try Miss Steele." Taylor doesn't know it yet, but we are going to be best friends for sure.

I try to get into the front passenger seat once my duffle is loaded into the back of the shiny Escalade; however Taylor insists I sit in the rear. Since it is just me, I spread out on the back seat. While it is completely decadent and unnecessary, I will admit it is nice not to have to drive through the Seattle early morning traffic or cram into a city bus. Taylor has pleasant smooth jazz playing through the radio and I relax.

Of course it doesn't take long for my mind to wander onto last night. I should have listened to my instinct, like Christian told me to. How singled minded I must be to put myself at so much risk. If I am being honest I know this is why I didn't tell Christian about it. He is going to be so mad if he finds out, when he finds out.

"Is everything okay Ana?" Taylor's calm authoritative voice breaks through the jazz. I look up at the rearview mirror, and we make eye contact.

"Now, I hope so." Somehow I am grateful it happened before I started working there, it shouldn't affect my future prospects. My instinct tells me that trying to report his behavior will only be met with indifference or worse, Jack saying I am making it all up because I didn't get the job.

"If you ever need help," he pauses as he pulls something from his jacket pocket. As we pull up at a red light, he passes me a business card. "My security team and I are always reachable on that number there. Any time Ana." He is maintaining eye contact with me in the mirror. I nod and smile.

"Thanks, I really appreciate that Taylor." I take my wallet from my handbag and place the card there.

I feel good knowing I have Taylor in my corner. I am dreading telling Christian about what happened last night. I should have done it when I got home safe, when I talked to him on the phone about flight times. I missed my chance. It still would have been a big deal to him, but now I have only made it worse. However, I know I will have to tell him before he finds out from somewhere else somehow.

The car ride is quiet the rest of the drive. Taylor carries my bag into the airport, but I tell him I don't intend on checking my bag in. He follows me to the counter Christian told me to go to, and I wait in line. The lady at the desk is beautiful, and blonde. Go figure.

"How can I help you this morning?" Her voice is cheerful when I step up to be served.

"I have a flight booked under A. Steele." I slide my ID across towards her. "I just have to pick up my ticket." She takes my ID and starts tapping at her keyboard.

"Alright, let me see here." She squints at the screen. "Yep, there you are." She turns and opens the drawer to her left. When she is facing me again, she hands me a boarding pass. Sure enough it says A. Steele, but my eyebrows shoot up when I see First Class is printed there also.

"Thanks," I say with a mumble.

"First class lounge is to your right," she says as she points. "You have a nice day now." She adds with a cute little wave, which I return before turning around and walking away. At the threshold of the lounge, Taylor reluctantly hands over my duffle bag.

"I have carried heavier bags before Taylor, I will be fine." I smile at the hesitant look on his face. "You have done more than enough."

"Okay, see you when you return." He nods and then smiles. "Ana." My own smile increases in size and I wave until he has disappeared from my line of sight.

The first class lounge is beyond classy, but my jeans and tee shirt are definitely out of place. A young, impossibly good looking, waitress hands me a glass of champagne when I settle into one of the out of the way seats at the back. I don't drink it of course; it is way too early in the day for me. Instead I struggle my laptop out of my tightly packed messenger back, turning it on. Once I am connected to the WiFi I open up my emails, fully intending to email Christian.

When I open a new email and go to type however, nothing comes out. I don't know how or what to tell him. So, like the coward I am, I close out of my emails and load my search engine. Into it I type submissive. I look around me, glad I sat in a discreet section of the lounge. The first result is a definition of the word; ready to conform to the authority or will of others. I am surprised however that most of the other results are BDSM related.

I don't know what I thought I would read about these types of relationships but it wasn't at all what I expected. Maybe I read 'The Story Of O' at too young of an age, but the lifestyle is very different than my concept of it. I am very intrigued when I read that not all of these relationships have a sexual component, and that any acts are consented to beforehand.

Christian's words from the night he told him about his lifestyle come back to me; this would be a relationship built on trust. Of course I know Christian's particular lifestyle most definitely has a sexual component, but I think I understand the difference now between pain and hurt. Pain may sometimes act as a conduit of his control, but it is never done with the intent of hurting.

I am just about to email Christian, try to rectify the broken trust I have caused by not telling him about what happened last night, when I hear them call my flight. Shit. If I don't do it now while my mind is open to it, I may never get the chance. Security thankfully doesn't take too long and after packing my laptop back into my over filled messenger bag, I head over to the gate.

My mind is elsewhere when I hand over my ticket to the desk clerk, I am editing an email to Christian in my mind. I don't take in how nice the First Class seats are as I sit down. Instead I am reaching for my laptop again but when it comes to typing out my carefully thought out explanation, I falter. Suddenly I am not so sure it is something I should tell him about in an email. I still send him one, just not one that explains anything.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Forgiveness

Christian,

There is something I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to get mad. At me anyway.

Ana.

* * *

There are still a few minutes until take off and the stewardess hasn't asked me to stow my laptop yet, so I sit there looking at the screen. I frown when his reply comes there not a minute later.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: My palm is twitching

Anastasia,

I cannot promise I won't be mad, when I already am. How are you emailing me right now, by my watch you should be preparing for takeoff? You can tell me about this when you call after you land.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I read the email over again. Suddenly glad that I am here sitting in my comfortable First Class seat and he is far away. I hit reply.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Laters, Baby

Fine. Thanks for the First Class treatment.

* * *

As I am about to close down the email and shut the laptop off, another response comes through.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Two Palms Twitching

Anastasia! Stow your laptop, now.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I do, but not because he told me to. Shit, somehow I have managed to make this worse yet again and he doesn't even know yet. As we taxi down the runway I try to relax. The takeoff is smooth, but I still feel queasy. When we stop over in Atlanta, I don't email or text. I know myself pretty well, know I won't be able to tell him right now or keep myself from making a stow your twitching palm joke; which will only serve to exacerbate the situation.

Bob is waiting at arrivals when I finally reach Savannah, holding a little sign that reads 'Steele'. He is wearing a chauffer's hat and a giant grin; his leg is still in a brace. Somehow even though he is a total dork, he is perfect for Mom. I tell myself later that this is the reason I forget to immediately call and tell Christian that I have landed. This, of course, isn't true. I feel ashamed about last night and after the email fight I have lost the courage to tell him, again.

"Bob," I say as he throws his arms around me in friendly hug. We haven't seen each other since the wedding.

"Ana, it is so wonderful to see you." He eyes the duffle bag and messenger bag on my shoulders when we pull away from the hug. "Any checked luggage?" I shake my head. "You are so Ray's daughter." I smile cheekily.

"Why thank you very much." We both laugh. "Did you make it through your honeymoon with Mom without having to pay excess baggage?"

"Ana, you know I didn't." We both laugh again, this time for longer. Bob takes the duffle from me before we start to walk out towards the parking lot. I try to protest.

"I can really manage Bob, plus you are still injured." He waves me off, even though he has a pronounced limp.

"Nonsense, it really isn't as bad as Carla made out." We stop at the boot of his car, packing both of my bags inside. "I would have been devastated if she had missed your graduation because of it."

"The main thing is she didn't." I cross my arms over my chest and stare into the back of the car.

"Ray was already halfway to our hotel when I rang him," Bob says while he closes the boot.

"Excuse me?" He doesn't look at me when I shift my gaze onto him, only fiddles with his car keys.

"I knew I couldn't make it, but I wasn't going to let Carla miss it." He looks up at me, but he is staring at something behind me. "Ray can convince her of anything when it concerns you."

"Bob, I don't know what to say." I shuffle back and forth on my feet.

"You shouldn't have to say anything Ana," he says as he pats my shoulder and looks at me in the eye. "Just remember your mother is a complicated woman and things aren't always what they seem."

The car ride to Bob and Mom's house is filled with his holiday anecdotes, and my Seattle adventures. I am reminded again of why Bob is such a good match for Mom. I won't say anything as corny as they complete one another, but they certainly work together as a couple. The house looks the same, typical plantation, right down to the mailbox with 'Adams' painted on the side. Standing and waving on the porch is Mom wearing a bright pink apron.

"Oh no, you let her cook?" I say as Bob puts the car into park.

"She insisted on making you her famous brownies." I make a face of displeasure I am sure, because he smiles wide. "Don't worry, I am cooking on the grill for dinner and there is always ice cream for dessert."

We both get out of the car and Mom comes running towards us. She squeezes me tight and I feel myself relax into her hold. I think maybe this is what I needed. The only thing missing, and would make this retreat perfect, is Ray. As Mom pulls back she examines me closely, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, her face of excitement turns into one of concern.

"Is everything okay honey?" Despite her shortcomings, Mom could always tell when something was really bothering me.

"I didn't get that position at SIP." I pause as she squeezes my hands reassuringly. "The application process was too scrupulous." I choose my words carefully; she doesn't need to hear about how much trouble I could have gotten myself into.

"Honey, there will be other opportunities." She pulls me into another hug, I can feel the tears wanting to fall but I pull them back in. "Just you wait." Bob appears next to as, and despite the fact that he has both of my bags on his shoulders, he joins in the hug.

While I unpack the few items I brought with me in the guest bedroom, I can smell a delicious fragrant coming into the house from the grill outside. Bob is a Savannah native, quite a master of the grill. I watch him and Mom outside from the kitchen window, availing myself of a glass of white wine. Bob is telling Mom about his latest golfing fail.

"And then I sliced the thing because I can't stand right with this brace on, but the grass was wet so you can imagine what happened." As Bob laughs, he reaches out and takes Mom's hand. A sudden feeling of guilt hits me.

Now that I am here and so far away from it all, I think the embarrassment over what Jack did, and my shock, is wearing off. I see the absolute childishness of not telling anyone, of not telling Christian. Somehow I am punishing him for Jack's behavior, assuming a bad reaction when he really hasn't done anything but support me.

I head back into the guest room and shut the door. Pulling out my cell phone from my bag, I realize I still haven't even turned it back on. Shit. I landed a couple of hours ago now. Looks like my promises don't mean much. I am dismayed to see three missed calls. They are all Christian. I play the messages as I sink to the floor, pressing my back to the door.

"You have three new messages." I tap my foot, the foreboding hitting my like a freight train.

"Message One: Anastasia, I hope you are safe in Atlanta on your stopover. I am not mad, and I have stowed my palms. Please call me when you can." The smile I get from realizing we both thought of the same joke regarding his palms is short lived.

"Message Two: Anastasia, I can see that your plane has arrived safely. Please call me when you get this." My guilt increases. I am disappointed in myself. Trust works both ways, support works both ways. If I ever expect him to let me in, I need to reciprocate.

"Message Three: You said you would call." His voice on the last message, while still that of a grown man, sounds like a broken child. I feel a tear fall from my left eye. I immediately hit redial, more tears threaten to fall while I wait for the call to connect.

"Anastasia," Christian's tone is one of relief. It is all it takes for me to start crying.

"I am so sorry," I say through the tears. I cannot control them, so I stop trying to.

"Please tell me that you aren't crying over me?" He sounds as distraught as I feel.

"No." It isn't a lie. "I am crying over everything." As the tears pour out of me I realize I have been holding this in for a while; too long.

"I can't tell you how much I wish I was there right now." I nod; about a minute ticks by before I remember he cannot see my gesture. "Please tell me what the everything is?"

"I am a stupid, silly, girl." In frustration I slap myself on the thigh.

"Anastasia." I can hear Christian moving around, but I don't have the presence of mind to wonder what he is doing. "Don't ever call yourself stupid again."

"Jack Hyde in a roundabout way tried to trade sexual favors for the job at SIP." It is silent on the other end of the line. "It happened last night and I didn't tell you." The silence extends. "And even worse than that, I am in Savannah and you are in Seattle."

"Oh, Anastasia. What am I going to do with you?" He sounds defeated, subjugated.

"Whatever you want Christian." The tears have stopped. My mind suddenly clear. There is no stopping this, I don't want to anymore.

"You don't mean that." There is a pain thinly veiled in the undertone of his words. "You can't mean that." His voice has dropped lower, seductive.

"We shouldn't do this over the phone." Suddenly I want, need, to see him; I want, need, to touch him. I capture my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Be ready to leave tomorrow." I hear a car door in the background. "Keep your phone on you, I will contact you." I am about to speak, when I hear his voice again. "Oh and Anastasia, do stop biting your lip. You know what that does to me." Then the call disconnects.

Wow, that escalated quickly. What on earth am I going to tell Mom and Bob? I know I didn't tell them how long I was staying, but I am sure that they assumed it would be longer than twenty-four hours. It is definitely horrible of me, but I cannot seem to care. I wish I had realized how stupid I was being before I flew all the way here, because now all I want is to be there with him.

Slowly I stand, striding through the bedroom towards the adjourning bathroom. My face is red, my eyes bloodshot. It really has been a very long time since I cried. I wash my face, patting it dry with one of the pretty guest towels. As I examine myself again, a soft knock comes at the door.

"Ana, honey. Dinner is ready." It is Mom, and she sounds happy. I feel like the worst daughter ever.

"Coming," I say quickly. You can most assuredly tell I have been crying by the sound of my voice. I rush to the door and open it. She is still there waiting on the other side.

"Are you okay honey?" I am touched by how concerned she looks. "Don't worry about SIP."

"It isn't SIP." Well it is, but not in the way that should be making me cry. I watch the realization hit her in the face.

"Ana, don't tell me some man is making you cry." I shake my head vehemently.

"He didn't make me cry," I say confirming her suspicions. A sad smile overtakes her face. "And he isn't just some man."

"Oh honey," Mom says kindly as she pulls me into a hug. "What is making you cry?"

"Things are just so complicated." I lean into the comfort of my mother's hug. "I think I might be leaving tomorrow." She pulls back slightly, but keeps her grip on my shoulders.

"Really, but you just got here?" I can tell she is disappointed, but she hides it well.

"I know, but I need to see him. I know it sounds silly and stupid but I realized some things while watching you and Bob just before." Mom simply smiles knowingly at me and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"Well if you are leaving tomorrow, then we will just have to make tonight count." She wipes another tear from my face gently.

"Thank you Mom, I've missed you." I grab onto her hand and hold it tight. As distant as we can be sometimes, I think maybe it was worth it to come all this way for one day.

"I've missed you too honey." We both start to leave the bedroom. "Say any chance we could squeeze in that shopping trip tomorrow morning?"

"I insist on it." My tears are left behind, for now.

Bob, the self proclaimed King of the Grill, has made smoked spare ribs. They are delicious and I remember why Ray was so okay with Bob. The man can really barbeque. He is surprised about the short duration of my visit, but declines the offer to come shopping tomorrow; smart man. Mom makes no further mention of my crying episode, at least during dinner, however I can tell Bob has realized I had been crying. This realization came when he let me have the last rib, accompanied by a sweet squeeze of my hand.

After dinner is finished, cleaned up by the non cookers, Mom and I sit outside together. The landscape of their backyard is pure Savannah charm. Despite the fact that my mother is no Southern Bell, this place really seems to suit her. I think Bob and this place have had a calming, grounding, effect on her.

"So can I ask?" Mom says suddenly into the still night air. I sip the wine I am holding.

"Ask what Mom?" My mind is on the fireflies that I think I can see off in the distance.

"Who this man is?" She is trying to act nonchalantly, comical. "Have I met him?" As I turn to look at her I know she knows who it is.

"Possibly," I say with a noncommittal shrug. It won't work though; my mother is like a tuning fork when it comes to romance.

"Well I hope it is the same man your father caught you with at Graduation." I am certain that I have instantly turned red.

"He told you about that?" I had almost forgotten about that mortifying moment.

"He didn't want to," she says with an evil grin. "But honestly Anastasia champagne doesn't have the kind of reaction on a woman unless it gets some help." I bury my face in my hands, beyond embarrassed.

"We weren't together then." I pause for a moment, and then look up at her. "I suppose we aren't together now."

"Is that why you were so upset earlier?" I shake my head.

"I keep something from him, and I punished him for it because I felt guilty I didn't tell him." I fill up my glass, taking a long drink afterwards. "And when I heard his voice I just couldn't stop crying." Fuck, when did I become this?

"It is always best to be honest. The longer you put it off, the worse it is. The more conscious the decision was to conceal." Wow, that is actually pretty amazing advice.

"When did you get so smart?" I fiddle with my glass a little; happy at least the truth is out now.

"I learnt it from you," she says immediately, doesn't even blink. "I am sorry that I haven't always been there for you." Suddenly I can see a melancholy look in her eye.

"Mom," I say pleadingly. I didn't mean to make her upset.

"No let me say this, this is my guilt." She turns away from me, staring off into the backyard. "Bob, and Ray, have been a great help in making me move past certain things in my past, showing me that I am worth more than I ever thought." I think I can see tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Oh Mom," I say as I reach out and take her hand. She doesn't turn to face me, not yet.

"They have helped me see I deserve good things. Deserve to be in your life; even though I still don't know how you turned out so wonderful with everything I put you though." It is then my mother starts crying. "I didn't think I should go to your graduation ceremony, Bob told me I was being silly. But I was just so proud of you but also ashamed that you had to do it all yourself."

At this point I put my glass down and stand. I close the distance between us, and envelope her into a hug. She is shaking slightly from the tears. I squeeze her tighter. It looks like she is taking her own advice, telling me all she has concealed.

"Ray turned up and made me realize I was punishing you not myself by not going. I am so glad I didn't miss it," she continues with a shaky voice.

"So am I." I can feel the lump in my throat, but my tears have been used up today.

"Bob is a little pissed we had to leave him behind though." We untangle from the hug, but I kneel on the ground in front of her.

"I'll bet." We smile at one another. "Did he have a themed hat he wanted to wear?" Mom laughs, and I know she is going to be okay. I reach out and hug her again.

* * *

Author's Note:

Somehow this ended up being the longest chapter yet, not sure how that happened!

I, myself, am looking forward to the next couple of chapters. I am working hard to get them right!

Thanks for the continued support!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	18. Chapter Eighteen - There Is That Danger

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Eighteen - There Is That Danger

"What about this one?" Carla Adams, my mother, most definitely wanted a girly girl. If I ever let her and Kate loose in a dress shop together, I think it just might open a portal to hell.

"Too pink," I say with a frown and a shake of the head. I really am kidding; this shopping trip has been so much fun.

"You sure, remember my treat?" It is her turn to frown when I shake my head again.

While Mom returns it to the rack, I pull out my phone again and check to make sure there are no missed calls. There is no way I am missing his calls again today. Even though I recognize I am acting like a pathetic girl, my self-righteousness can fuck off; so what if I am waiting for his call.

"Still nothing?" Mom says when she returns, I can see some more clothes folded over her arm.

"Not yet." I snap my phone shut. "Sorry, I am not trying to be rude."

"We have all been there honey." She pats me on the shoulder. "You should look at getting onto birth control."

"Mom," I say with a whine. Looking around in embarrassment, I confirm no one is within earshot.

"With a man like that, you are going to need it." She doesn't even know the half of it. "Should we be going into Victoria's Secret before we leave?"

"Fuck no." The last thing I want to do is pick out sexy lingerie with my mother, no matter how much I love her or no matter how good our relationship is.

"I swear young lady; I don't know where you got that mouth of yours." She playfully smacks me on the forearm.

"Oh, yes you do." Mom smiles, because she knows it came from her.

"You're right, I do." Then she grabs me by the hand and pulls me along towards the change rooms. We both squeeze into the one cubicle and try on the clothes we have picked out, mostly by her.

For most of my childhood my mother was more like an older sister or a best friend than a parent. As I giggle while she strikes a pose, I realize maybe that is okay. I pick up a simple, yet flattering, business style A-line dress from the pile. The material is smooth, providing a sexy confident feeling as I slide it on. My frustration comes when I am unable to zip it up at the back.

"Mom?" I turn my back towards her, and she readily assists me. The small white collar of the dress closes around my neck.

"Wow, Ana. That color looks lovely on you." Mom is staring at my reflection in the mirror across from us. I must say I wasn't convinced that burgundy could look good on anyone, but I think it looks okay.

"I don't really want to get into the habit of buying clothes that I cannot put on by myself." Absentmindedly I smooth out the skirt of the dress. "Kate isn't always going to be around to zip things up for me."

"No, but someone else might be honey." In a very motherly like gesture, Mom fluffs the ends of my hair. We make eye contact in the mirror. The look in her eye tells me she is not talking about Ethan helping out his roommate.

"Oh please." I roll my eyes. If Christian wanted anything to do with my zip, it would mostly assuredly be going in the other direction; however I will not say this to my mother.

"He must be something special, to have caught your eye." A completely serious look has come over her face. "Is there a reason you two aren't together?" For the first time since Christian took me to his penthouse, I realize I don't have a solid answer to that question.

"Our lives are just so different." I pause and sit down on the seat in the corner, unbelieving I am talking about this with my mother in a change room. "When we met I wasn't sure there was a way of connecting our worlds."

"And now?" Mom's voice sounds so far away, my mind so absorbed by all things Christian Grey.

"I think the effort to be a part of his world is worth it," I say staring off at nothing. "Even if I have to risk getting myself hurt in the process." Suddenly my mother's face is in front of my eyes, it is her turn to kneel before me.

"It almost sounds like you are in love," she says in a loving whisper. The idea scares me to the core, excites me too.

"Maybe," I take a deep breath. "There is that danger." Mom leans forward and pulls me into a hug. I press myself into the hug and let my emotions be protected by my mother's love. "I am so sorry I am being a selfish child."

"How so honey?" Mom holds me tighter. I do the same.

"I came here to spend time with you, and with Bob, then some man says jump and I say how high." Mom shifts backwards, holding my gaze in her eyes.

"I don't think that is what is happening here sweetheart." She sounds more authoritative then I have ever heard before.

"You don't?" A sense of longing hits me anew when I cock my head to the side.

"No, I think you want to go because it is what you want and not because it is what he wants." Mom touches a hand to my cheek. "Bob and I will always be here for you, and let us not forget I screwed up your graduation plans so look at it as pay back."

"I am not like that Mom," I say as I reach up and hold her hand that is on my face.

"I know that, so that is why this is okay." She smiles tenderly, with what I hope is pride in her eyes.

"How about for Thanksgiving you come and stay with me? You just know Seattle weather is exactly the kind of weather for eating huge amounts of food." Mom's entire face lights up. "I know it is still a few months away, but can't hurt to start planning now."

"I would love to," she says happily as she stands, pulling me up with her.

In the interest of total honesty, we did go into Victoria's Secret before we left. I also had to buy another duffle bag, because even if I am a world class packer there was no way all of my new things would fit in my one bag. As Mom drives us back to her place, I focus on the beautiful Georgian countryside. I am dismayed that I still haven't received word from Christian. I am anxious to see him; there is so much to talk about, so much I want to say.

The house appears to be quiet as we pull up. Mom and I unload probably about half of our purchases, giggling and talking as we walk up the steps. I can smell coffee wafting through the windows, the scent reaching my noise as we cross the porch. Since Mom is holding a few more bags than me, I am the one who pushes open the screen.

"We're home," Mom says in a loud sing song voice as we walk through the front door. Call it woman's intuition or whatever you want, I can tell immediately there is something out of place in this house.

Bob walks in through the back door as Mom and I set our various shopping bags on the lounge. Not a second later, I start hallucinating. That is the only explanation for Christian Grey trailing behind Robert Adams in my mother's house. He looks impossibly handsome in his dark wash jeans and white button down; looking ever the city boy next to Bob in his polo shirt and khakis. They are both holding coffee mugs.

"Christian," my mother exclaims beside me. I can tell she is super excited. She turns to me. "You didn't say he was coming." I resist the urge to say to my mother does this look like the face of a woman who knew? Without a sense of awkwardness, Christian strides over and shakes my mother's hand.

"Pleasure to see you again Mrs. Adams," he says as he steps back.

"Again, call me Carla." He nods and then turns his gaze to me.

"Anastasia," he says intimately. I can see my mother looking at me from the corner of my eye.

"How?" The single word question is all I say. His eyes tell me the answer without speaking; later they say.

"Will you be staying for lunch?" Bob says as he looks from Christian and then to me.

"Unfortunately not, I have the plane on standby. Apparently pilots don't like waiting too long." The amount of humility in Christian's voice as he speaks is surprising, especially considering he is talking about his own private fucking plane. "Please forgive the rudeness of my swooping in and taking Anastasia away from you."

From the look on my mother's face, I know she is about to say something embarrassing. Thankfully my cell phone chooses that moment to ring, interrupting us perfectly. I excuse myself and slip into the guest bedroom. My soul drops when I see the caller ID, SIP.

"Ana Steele speaking," my voice tentatively answers the phone.

"Yes Miss Steele, this is Patrick Harrington. I am the new head of HR here at Seattle Independent Publishing." He sounds like a kind and patient man, but my mind can only focus on one question; why is there a new head of HR?

"Good Afternoon Mr. Harrington." My voice is more confident now; at least it isn't Jack Bloody Hyde calling me.

"If you could keep this under your hat, but SIP has just been bought out by a rather prominent company here in Seattle." Patrick pauses for a few moments, I suspect trying to find the right words to continue. "Due to this there have been a few employment restructurings." Code for sackings; this is very interesting.

"I didn't get the position I applied for Mr. Harrington." More to the point I withdrew my application.

"That brings me to my next point," he clears his throat. "We have lost a number of staff members. How would you feel about coming on board for an internship?" A few seconds pass by. "Paid of course. The new management here is very impressed with your resume Miss Steele."

"Would the position be working under Mr. Hyde at all?" I shift my stance from one foot to the other, nervous and excited.

"No, he is one of the staff members not making the transition." Along with Liz I suspect, if Patrick really is the head of HR now. There is another question I still need to ask; a question I fear I already know the answer to.

"What company bought SIP?" There is another pause on the other end of the line.

"Between us?" His voice is still professional, just quieter.

"Of course Mr. Harrington," I say with a nod despite the fact I am on the phone.

"I suppose it is only fair you know who you will be working for." He takes a deep breath, the next words a conspirator like whisper. "Grey Enterprises Holdings." Of fucking course.

"How long would the internship be?" The question slips out before I let the ramifications of working for a subsidiary of Christian's company settle into my brain.

"Three months, with an option for full time work if you are successful." This is the opportunity I have been hoping for; all I have to do is reach out and take it.

"Can I give you my answer tomorrow?" After I have given Christian Fucking Grey a piece of my mind.

"Sure, but I would need you to start Monday if at all possible." So the takeover was pretty hostile then.

"I will let you know first thing, I promise Mr. Harrington." Despite my concern over what Christian has done, I still feel that tremble of excitement over the prospect of the internship.

"Okay, Goodbye then." Mr. Harrington sounds satisfied with my answer, placated.

"Goodbye." I toss my cell onto the bed, my hands shaking. There is a soft, calm, knock on my door.

"Anastasia, can I come in?" Christian sounds quite pleased with himself. Oh, just you wait Mr. Grey. I turn and open the door, immediately shutting it behind him. "Hi," he whispers as he steps in close to me. Even though he smells divine and I feel an intense need to kiss him, I step back. When I hold up my hand, he stops in his tracks.

"So that was SIP on the phone?" The expression on his face doesn't change; I would hate to play poker against this man. "Apparently they are being absorbed by another company and want me to intern for them."

"Interesting." I can see his hand twitch, and I realize he is itching to touch me as he infinitesimally moves closer to me. The power of my refusal is evident.

"Cut the shit, Christian. I know your company bought SIP." The innocent and unapologetic smile that dons his face proves his arrogance; I just wish it wasn't so fucking sexy.

"I have been looking at diversifying for a while and it was a good fit for Grey Enterprises." The smile falters just a little. "Besides some staffing issues." Could he really have done this just to fire Jack Hyde?

"There is no way you have bought a company, fired employees and hired new HR since I called you last night." I cross my arms over my chest.

"You are absolutely right. It was all in motion from the second you told me about your first interview." In frustration, pent up energy, Christian runs a hand through his hair.

"What?" My arms fall back to my sides, my body moving slightly closer to Christian.

"However, the firing of employees only happened after the second interview." I watch his hand form a fist, anger in his eyes. "Why do you think I wasn't the one to drive you to the airport, you know how much I love driving you." His expression softens a little.

"But, I hadn't told you about it yet." I look towards the ground. "How did you know?" My voice is small, guilty. He knew.

"I was having Jack followed." His hand touches my chin with the smallest amount of pressure, but it is enough for me to look up and into his eyes. "My heart just about stopped when the investigator called and told me you showed up."

"Christian," I say with all the remorse I can convey.

"And I called you that night, desperate to see if you were okay." His other hand moves to my waist, while the one on my chin moves to cup my cheek.

"I," I begin to say. He interrupts me.

"I gave you a chance to tell me about it then," his voice is heartbreaking sorrowful. "I cannot tell you what I felt when you lied to me Anastasia."

"I am so sorry." I don't know what to do with my hands, but I want to touch him so badly. I place them tentatively on his forearms.

"And then you broke my trust again." His body moves closer still, I can feel the heat and the tension. "You didn't call when you landed like you promised you would."

"Christian," my tone is breathless. My mind has forgotten about SIP, the fact that we are in Savannah, my body is in control now.

"And I know you aren't my submissive or my girlfriend but," suddenly he stops talking. His eyes are burning into my very soul. Despite the fact we are in the guest bedroom of my mother's house, I close the distance and kiss him with all passion I have stored in my body.

Even though I can count on one hand the number of times we have kissed, I feel a sense of familiar comfort in his embrace; as well as an unbridled lust. It is the latter that makes me grip him on the back of the neck, allows him to grip my ass and hoist me up. With my legs wrapped about his waist, Christian starts to walk forward. I know neither of us is thinking when we hit the mattress.

Our bodies fall together downwards, and I bite his lip when the pressure of his body sends an electric spark through mine. The growl he produces in response causes my legs to squeeze in answer, the pressure between our bodies only increasing. When I release his lip, he wastes no time in moving his mouth lower.

His lips tease and bite their way along my jaw line, causing me to turn my head to give him better access. It is then I realize we are lying on top of my half packed clothes, the packing I was half finished when I left to go shopping this morning. When Christian bites my earlobe though, my eyes slip closed and it no longer bothers me.

In the moment I don't consciously realize he hasn't trapped my hands this time. I do however feel a different intensity in his kisses. I cannot explain it, but somehow I feel like he is both punishing me and asking for forgiveness. There isn't enough energy in my brain to focus on it right now though, because all of that energy is going towards not moaning too loudly.

I think the moment the both of us realize we are heading into dangerous waters is when his mouth finds my nipple through my shirt. The pain and pleasure his teeth create overrides my ability to control my cries, no doubt that the sound traveled out of the room. Unable and unwilling to tell him to stop, I instead bite down on my lip. Yet again he proves to me how good he can make me feel, yet again while still fully clothed.

As his mouth retraces its steps back towards mine, Christian's pace is slowing. When he places a gentle kiss on my mouth, I open my eyes. He rests his forehead against mine, his gaze burning into me. I am suddenly conscious of where my hands are, trying to remember where exactly his 'hard limit' was. Fuck, there is so much we need to talk about. I let them fall, coming to rest at my hips.

Suddenly his gaze swifts from mine, scanning the bed around us. I get nervous as a wicked smile spreads across his face. He reaches out behind me, pulling something towards him. The tie he left at my apartment comes into my field of vision. I honestly forgot that I had brought it with me; still not sure what compelled me to do so. Sitting up slightly, he gently lifts my head and slips the tie around my neck; tying it deftly and tightening it.

"I wondered where you had gotten to." I realize he is talking to the tie, his eyes trailing the length of it. The end falls between the swell of my breasts, his gaze settling there. "You look very happy, I would be too." I chuckle.

With all the courage I possess, I gently cup the back of his neck. The mischief slowly disappears from his eyes. Leisurely I bring my lips to his, kissing him not with lust but adoration. I know he can tell the difference, feel my search for forgiveness. Suddenly he sits up, pulling me with him. As I sit in his lap, his eyes wander over my face.

"I am sorry that I lied." I take his hands in mine. "I am sorry that I didn't call when I said I would."

"I am sorry that I bought SIP without telling you." I am glad he added the without telling you, because I can see in his eyes that he isn't sorry that he did what he did. He is still the only person who has never lied to me.

"You know I can't take that internship." He cocks his head to the side.

"Why not?" Absentmindedly Christian begins twirling my hair around his index finger. For some reason I find it arousing, and I bet he doesn't even realize he is doing it.

"I will not sleep with my boss," I say while I fiddle with the end of the tie I am still wearing. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me closer.

"Technically you aren't sleeping with your boss." Slowly, purposefully, I draw my bottom lip into my mouth.

"Not yet," I say as I rock my hips forward. His grip on my waist increases, his eyes going darker.

"Anastasia," he says with a warning voice.

"Sorry, but you know what I mean." He raises an eyebrow in question. "I can't let you buy me a job."

"Believe it or not, but I didn't ask them to hire you." The expression on his face is imploring me to trust him.

"Well, I don't." Okay, maybe I do. I trust Christian wouldn't step over that boundary.

"If it were up to me, you wouldn't have a job. I would have you tied up to my bedpost." I know he is joking, but it sends a thrill of excitement through me; especially since I am still astride him like this.

"So you have no ethical issues with me working for your company?" I say innocently as I lean forward so our noses graze.

"Grey Enterprises will not be having an active role in SIP; it will remain an independent subsidiary." I feel his fingers tighten further onto my body.

"So, I wouldn't be sleeping with my boss?" I feel him twitch beneath me; a satisfied grin claims my facial expression.

"No, just your boss's boss's boss." He smirks as he leans forward, kissing me just below the ear.

"Well, the internship is only three months. What is three months?" I say with a shrug. I feel Christian chuckle against my neck. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," he says as he moves back to look at me. Without warning, something starts vibrating. I raise an eyebrow and Christian laughs again. He pulls out his phone, showing me that it is ringing.

"A likely story Mr. Grey." The smirk on his face as he answers the phone is wildly erotic.

"Grey." He nods a couple of times. "Yes, all good. See you soon." With that the phone disappears back into his pocket.

"Something the matter?" Distractedly I brush hair from his forehead. A glint appears in his eyes before he speaks again.

"No, but I should probably let you pack." He stands up from the bed, somehow managing to lift me with him in his arms. I slide down his body to stand beside him, making both of us groan at the continual contact.

Mom and Bob are outside when we emerge from the bedroom, I am thinking to pretend they weren't aware of what we were doing. Christian strides out the back and joins them, as I grab my shopping bags and head back into the guest room. I don't pack with my usual diligence, supremely thankful I did purchase that additional bag. Once I am done, I drop them at the front door and join everyone.

"It looks like I was going to have to leave early anyway," I say as I stand next to Christian, who is sitting in one of the outdoor chairs. "Turns out I have an internship at SIP after all."

"Honey, that is great." Mom stands from the table, hugging my proudly. "Told you everything would work out."

"When do you start?" Bob says as he smiles at me from across the table.

"Monday." Once I call and tell Patrick that I accept that is.

"That still gives you a couple days to sort some other things out I suspect." Mom whispers into my ear. I know a blush spreads across my face at the implication.

The four of us spend another few minutes talking about my new internship, Seattle and Bob asks some very insightful questions about Christian's company. Every so often my mother catches my eye and smiles. I think she approves, but then again I don't think it was ever in doubt. Ray is a whole other matter. When Christian's phone rings again, it catches us all off guard.

"Grey." Mom and Bob look at each other, something unspoken passing between them. "Understood." Christian pockets his phone and elegantly stands, the rest of us following suit. "Our car is here," he says as he looks towards me.

"I am ready," I say with a nod. Mom and Bob come over and both hug me tightly. Then they turn to Christian.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Bob," Christian says as he reaches out and the two men shake hands. I watch as he kisses my mother on the cheek.

As Christian and Bob carry the bags to the waiting car, my mother gets in a couple more hugs while we stand on the porch. When Bob returns, I say my final goodbyes and turn towards the car. To my surprise Taylor is standing there talking to Christian. The man is still in a suit, wow he must be boiling.

"Taylor, how you liking Savannah?" I say as I approach them. I see the smile as it tries to claim Taylor's face, but he refrains. Man, Christian must be a hard ass.

"Miss Steele, it sure isn't Seattle." He says with a nod as he opens the car door. I slide into the back and Christian follows me in. I wind down the window on the far side, sticking my hand out to wave at Mom and Bob.

"Bye honey," Mom calls out from the porch. Bob has an arm wrapped around her waist. I am glad to have had some time with them.

Once Taylor is on the road, Christian takes my hand but we sit in silence. For the time being it is just nice being in each other's company. Even with all the sexually charged energy between us, it is nice to know we can sit in comfortable silence together. With the reassuring feeling of his hand in mine, the happiness of seeing Mom and Bob, I let my mind focus on SIP.

Now that I have decided to go ahead with the internship, I am finding myself a little excited. It is a relief to have an opportunity to work on my skills, especially since Jack Hyde will have nothing to do with my career. I shiver at the memory of that so called second interview. At my movement Christian draws my hand to his lips, kissing it sweetly.

"What is bothering you?" I wonder how he tells the difference between the shivers he produces from my body and those produced by disgust.

"Hyde," I say as another part of that night comes back to me. "I suppose I should tell you, he mentioned you."

"Me?" Christian's confusion is evident.

"Yeah. How I wouldn't say no to you." Christian inelegantly snorts.

"Just something else he was wrong about," we both laugh. "He probably saw the photos of us in the tabloids. That is all." He kisses my hand again, but it doesn't take away the bad feeling I have.

"No, it was more than that." I think back to the venom in his voice. Something tells me it wasn't in reference to myself. "Could he have known about his potential firing at the time and that is why he hated you?"

"Not possible. It was in the works, but no way could he have known." I can't explain why I have this horrible feeling about the way Jack talked about Christian.

"I just don't like the way he referred to you." I move closer to Christian, our thighs pressing together.

"Let's not worry about it right now; I want to focus on something else." I smile cheekily at him.

"And what would that be Mr. Grey?" His eyes sparkle as they look into my own.

"Getting you alone," he says with a sudden tug of my hand. Now we are only inches apart. Oh my, he does smell fucking glorious.

"And when we are alone?" I look up at him through my eyelashes.

"Making you scream," he says as he whispers directly into my ear. "Making you come with my name on your lips."

"Christian," I whisper as his hand buries itself into my hair. Suddenly Taylor's voice comes into the back of the car.

"We are here sir," he says in a monotone voice. I wonder if he heard what Christian said to me. He has probably heard worse.

I gasp at what I see waiting outside the car when I turn my gaze away from Christian's burning eyes. Sitting before me, looking like a million dollars, is a plane. Emblazoned on the side is 'Grey Enterprises Holdings'. Somehow coming face to face with a private plane is different than talking about it in abstract. Wow, I think I had forgotten just how rich this man is yet again.

* * *

Author's Note:

This is now the longest chapter so far. Mainly because I wanted to make up for only having the chance to post once a week at the moment, and maybe a little because I left the chapter where I did. Sorry!

Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the support, thanks for making me smile!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	19. Chapter Nineteen - I Am Yours

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Nineteen - I Am Yours

Christian's eyes sparkle with barely contained glee, I am sure a little pride too, as I look over at him. When we step out of the car, he has a protective arm around my waist. I know why, it is windy out here on the tarmac. I am still not even sure how we got out here without me noticing. I guess it is easy to get lost in the eyes of Christian Grey.

"Surely this is a misuse of company property?" Christian just gives me that boyish, cheeky, smile.

"Just wait until you meet Charlie Tango?" The way his head is tilting, I could stretch onto my toes and capture his lips.

"Charlie Tango?" I raise an eyebrow up, Christian's smile widens all the more.

"My helicopter," he says with zero humility. Of course he has a helicopter.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to impress me Mr. Grey." I am shocked when he squeezes me closer to him.

"Oh but I am," he says whispering into my ear. I bite my lip as his nose grazes my skin; I wish he would stop teasing me. "Is it working?" My only response is the deep blush of red on my cheeks. There is a subtle cough beside us and Christian moves a little from me.

"The pilot has our destination flight plan; all we need is clearance for takeoff." Taylor is holding my handbag, the two duffle bags sitting at his feet. I break away from Christian, taking my handbag from Taylor; Christian promptly takes it from me, slinging it over his shoulder.

Christian keeps his hand on the small of my back as we ascend the stairs and board. The plush beige interior is clean, smelling of fresh citrus. There are a couple rows of seats, but I can see a closed door at the far end of the plane. Standing next to the cockpit is a pretty young blonde. I idly wonder how Christian has never been sued for discrimination. There has got to be a story behind the blonde only employee trend.

"Welcome aboard Miss Steele, Mr. Grey," the blonde stewardess greets us. I nod and smile back, allowing Christian to lead me to the seats at the back of the plane. He gestures for me to take the window seat.

As he sits beside me, he reaches around both sides of my waist. The contact of his hands shooting tingles through me, my body still on overdrive since our make out session. He pulls up the seat belt and once clipped around my body, he tightens it as far as it will go; causing a sharp intake of breath from me. It is most definitely not an unpleasant feeling, when coupled with the heat in his eyes that is.

"You have to be strapped in for takeoff," he says with a secret smile. I shift a little in the seat as he buckles his own seat belt.

"How long will the flight be?" I wonder how different it will be from my commercial flight; wonder if there will be a stopover.

"About eight hours," he says without one hundred per cent confidence in his voice. I would have thought he would know, since he just took this flight out here. I suddenly feel guilty that he is wasting so much time on me, no matter how excited I am that he came himself.

"I hope you aren't missing too much important stuff," I say as I swivel in the seat to look at him.

"Anastasia, after that phone call last night nothing else seemed all that important." His eyes are bearing themselves to me, the intensity of emotion within them overwhelming.

I reach out and cup his cheek gently. By his body language I can tell he is wary, not used to this type of contact. To appease him I lean forward and chastely kiss him, before resting my forehead against his. His soft, satisfied, sigh reaches my ears not a second later. We stay like this until we hear the pilot's announcement to prepare for takeoff.

Both of us settle into the backs of our seats, the takeoff efficient and the climb to altitude smooth. It is almost cruel how much more comfortable this flight is than commercial; okay it is definitely cruel. However about half of my comfort level is probably coming from Christian's presence alone. Even though he is reading through some very boring looking documents, he hasn't stopped with the physical attention. Every so often, he absentmindedly kisses my hand or strokes my arm. It is exhilarating.

About an hour and a half into the flight, my eyes start to get weary. I place the book I was really only half concentrating on down, instead resting my head against Christian's shoulder. His lips touch the crown of head, his arm snaking around my body. As he pulls me closer, I snuggle further into him. Before too long I must doze off, because when my eyes next open Christian appears to be much further along in his pile of documents.

I am still resting against him however, his arm remaining wound around my body. From this angle I can read the document in front of him. I only take in one full sentence, 'The party responsible for the breach of contract will incur full liability for any and all loses due to diminished confidentialities.'. Wow, intense; I don't even understand it fully and I am intimidated.

"Interesting reading?" Christian's voice sounds amused. When I swift and look up at him, I see his eyes dancing with laughter.

"Another merger and acquisition?" I say with equal amounts of embarrassment and mirth in my speech.

"Actually, no. It is a joint business venture I have with an old friend that I would like to dissolve my involvement in." His hand that is on my waist starts to distractedly draw circles. "Going over the contract to find the most diplomatic eject button."

"Business venture with a friend?" It is mock shock on my face, but I am genuinely surprised that Christian would break that particular rule of business.

"Yes, not the wisest idea of mine." It is a sad smile that graces his features as he places the document down. "The whole thing seems to give them an untenable appearance of control over me that I no longer wish to endure." Cryptic Christian has come out to play; I wonder what kind of friend would try to control Christian.

"Christian not in control, heaven forefend," I say as I shift out of his arms. His answering chuckle is beyond pleasing to my ears.

"The things I cannot wait to do to that smart mouth of yours," he says as he turns back to the document. I lean against the window, imagining all the possibilities of exactly what he could do.

The time onboard goes like any normal flight, somehow both incredibly slow and fast at the same time. The stewardess brings us some wine and cheese at some point, I am not surprised that is delicious. I should have known Christian would make sure I eat something. After Bob's barbeque feast last night though, I haven't felt much of a need. However, it was pretty interesting listening to Christian explain the subtle differences in all the wines.

Despite him fighting it, I am pretty sure Christian dozes off a couple times during the flight. It is never for long, but he looks so peaceful. He can't have had much sleep, what with spending the better part of a day flying to Savannah and back. My guilt is still there, I hate wasting people's time. It is as I am watching him, his eyes closed and breathing steady, that the pilot announces our descent. At this, Christian's eyes snap open and connect with mine.

"I wondered if you ever slept," I say with a sweet smile on my face. After brushing the hair from his forehead, I cup his cheek.

"You certainly have that effect on me Anastasia." His eyes hold mine, the seriousness behind his expression confronting.

"What? Put you to sleep." I laugh as I let my hand drop from his face. He shakes his head, captures my hand and gently pulls me towards him.

"No, give me peace; contentment." I don't have time to consider the depth of that statement, as he claims my lips with his. It is hard to explain, but there is something uniquely intimate about the way he kisses me this time. When we break apart, reluctantly on both our parts, Christian buckles my seat belt and I turn to once again look at the sky beyond us.

"Christian, where are we?" As I look out the window while we begin our descent, I have realized we are clearly not in Seattle.

"Colorado." He has his impassive expression plastered on his face.

"Is this your way of telling me you are actually a serial killer?" I raise an eyebrow, feigning a serious accusation with a somber look.

"Not today." He laughs, his poker face abandoned.

"But you are kidnapping me?" I cannot keep the smile from taking over my mouth any longer.

"I don't deny that one." He brings my hand to his lips. "I have a place in Aspen. I suppose you could say I wanted you all to myself." My entire body tingles in anticipation.

"I have never been to Aspen," I say with wonderment; or Colorado for that matter.

"If I have my way Anastasia, there are a lot of things that you won't be able to apply the word never to anymore after this weekend." With purpose he leans in close to me, teasingly not making contact.

Two can play at this game. I slowly pull my bottom lip between my teeth, thrusting my body slightly closer to him. We make the slightest contact. His eyes flit from their intense gaze with mine and rake over my body; victory is claimed when I hear him groan. As he shifts his body to face the front of the plane, his eyes closed, I let my triumphant smirk claim my face. I suspect I will play for that later, in the best possible way.

After possibly the smoothest landing I have ever experienced and as we taxi down the runway, I watch Christian turn his phone on. I follow suit. There is a text message and a voicemail waiting. I am pleasantly surprised the text is from Mia, Christian's sister. It reads *Ana, let me know when you are back in town for that spa day*. I reply back, *Sure thing Mia!*. I am about to listen to my message when I see the frown on Christian's face, his gaze on his phone.

"Is everything okay Christian?" He looks up from his cell, his expression instantly changing when he meets my eyes.

"When I am with you, it seems to be." He reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear, kissing my temple affectionately before turning back to his phone. I do the same, playing the message; it is from Kate.

"You have one new message." I am staring out the window again; the airport we are approaching is small and private looking. Figures, Aspen is the winter playground for the rich and famous. At least we are here in a somewhat off season, less people around.

"Message One: We're back! Where are you girl? Miss you, Love you." It is mostly Kate's voice on the message, but I can hear Ethan in the background. I smile broadly.

"Can I make a quick call?" I say, my finger hovering over redial. Christian appears to be absorbed in whatever is on his phone, but at the sound of my voice he immediately looks up.

"Sure, we won't be able to disembark for a couple more minutes. Is everything alright?" He cocks his head to the side, his hair shifting on his forehead slightly. The overwhelming urge to kiss him hits me.

"Yeah, Kate and Ethan are home and I don't want them worrying about me." He nods, understanding in his eyes.

"I suppose you should call now. You might not get a chance again." He winks at me, his smirk beyond cheeky. I lean over and kiss him ardently on the mouth, his right hand coming up to hold the back of my head. When he pulls away, I make a low whine in the back of my throat. "Eager as ever, Miss Steele."

"Only for you, Mr. Grey." We are holding hands, our fingers intertwined together.

"Better make the call now, before I drag you into the bedroom at the back of the plane." I know he is joking, but it still causes my thighs to press together in answer.

"There is a bedroom on the plane?" He smirks, gesturing with his head to the closed door behind us.

"Good to know," I say with a suggestive smirk before dialing Kate and putting the phone to my ear. I didn't miss the look in Christian's eye though, it was pure lust.

"Ana, where are you?" Kate says when she answers on the first ring. "I have so much to tell you."

"I didn't even know you were due back today," I say, my excitement at speaking to my best friend clear in my voice.

"Well we were originally going to be back Sunday, but we had to come home earlier because there was an issue at one of Dad's papers." She sounds distracted.

"Major?" Even as I ask I know she doesn't know what it is, hence her distracted air; she is still trying to figure out what is going on.

"He said something about the next Watergate, but stop changing the subject." Oh no, when Kate moves from one mystery to the next she never lets up. "Where are you?" Her voice is now engaged, probing.

"I was in Savannah." I won't lie, but I won't be saying the whole truth. "Mom took me shopping."

"And now you are where?" Her voice is beyond interested, but do I want to tell her?

"There is a lot I have to tell you too." I start to fiddle with the buckle at my waist. "I will be back Sunday, I start at SIP Monday."

"Oh Ana, that is great news. We will be starting out at the same time." Seems like that was a suitable distraction from my current location; smooth Steele. "You can help me plan my first day outfit, Ethan has been no help."

"Sounds like fun, hey I have to go. Talk later?" I can sense movement in the plane; I think we are ready to disembark.

"Sure, see you Sunday," Kate says merrily. Beside me Christian is unbuckling his seat belt.

"Bye," I say and hastily hang up before Kate realizes that I haven't told her where I am. I slip my cell back into my handbag, doing a quick check to make sure I have all my stuff; the habits of a domestic flyer.

"You didn't tell her that you were with me?" I watch Taylor as he exits the down the steps. After a few seconds, Christian moves my hand to his lips and he kisses my knuckles.

"I wanted it to just be us, for as long as possible." Christian's eyes dance with joy, and he releases my hand to unbuckle my seat belt.

I am not surprised in the least that when we disembark there is a black Escalade waiting at the bottom of the steps. Maybe I should get Kate to do an investigation on GEH, because with this many Escalades I suspect it is really a front for the Mob. I am however surprised when Christian and I slip into the back seat, Taylor is riding shotgun; there is another man, a younger man, in the driver's seat.

"I hope you don't think me terribly rude Anastasia, but I have a couple calls myself that I need to take care of." Christian says apologetically as the car takes off from the airport.

"Not at all Christian, I am the one keeping you from work." It is not like I expect all of his attention, all of the time. C.E.O. I imagine is a twenty-four hour job.

"After this, it will be just us." The look in his eye promising me more than I could ever ask for.

While Christian starts talking on his cell, I do some quick math in my head; I am probably off as I have never been good with time zone differences, but I decide to try SIP anyway. Knowing I will feel better getting everything squared away, without responsibilities outstanding, I will be able to lose myself completely in whatever Christian has planned. I hit SIP in my contacts list, relieved when the call is answered.

"Seattle Independent Publishing, how may I direct your call?" In the hurried manner of the receptionist, I can tell I am definitely calling much too close to knock off time.

"Good evening, I am calling to speak to Patrick Harrington. My name is Ana Steele." I keep my voice even, but speak quickly; trying to make the exchange as efficient as possible.

"I think he might still be here, let me transfer you and we will see," the receptionist says sounding thankful that the call won't delay her too much.

"Thanks," I say as I look over at Christian. He is still on his cell, talking reservedly, but his hand is clasping mine. I listen to the hold music for about a minute before the phone call connects.

"Miss Steele, I hope you calling at this late hour is not a bad sign," Mr. Harrington says as he cheerily answers the phone. He doesn't seem in a rush at all, probably an indication he doesn't intend on leaving on time.

"No, not at all Mr. Harrington," I say with just as much cheer in my voice as him. "Quite the opposite in fact." I feel Christian squeeze my hand, it is comfortingly reassuring.

"So you are coming aboard?" As my habit, I nod my head even though Mr. Harrington cannot see me.

"I am very excited to accept the internship." Distantly in the background I can hear Mr. Harrington slap his desk, presumably in excitement.

"We are thrilled to have you, Ana." I think I could quite get to like Mr. Harrington.

"I am sorry to be calling so late, but I thought that once my decision was made you would appreciate not having to wait until tomorrow." It only has a little to do with my fear that once I get out of this car I will forget about everything other than the man sitting next to me.

"Not a bother, one less thing for me to worry about." You and me both Mr. Harrington. "See you Monday, say eight am. There is a touch of orientation to go over."

"See you then Mr. Harrington," I say, nodding yet again.

"Until then." I hang up the phone, feeling cautiously optimistic. Mr. Harrington seems professional, and kind; a pretty rare combination. With nothing left do to, I settle further back into the seat and get comfortable.

The sun is already set as we drive through the small town center. I hope I get to see it in the daylight, I bet it is beautiful. As the car turns out of town, we start to climb the other side of the valley. I tense a little as we begin to twist along the mountain road, not quite used to travelling winding roads in the dark. However the higher we go, the more excited I get.

There is a gateway up head that I can make out from the glow of the headlights. It appears to be made of gray, beige, and red stones. We slow and turn through them, heading down a long driveway. The house at the end takes my breath away. Double fronted with a high pitched roof, the structure is made of dark wood and identical stone work as the gateway. It is stunning, and somehow both modern and stark at the same time as inviting. I cannot wait to see the interior.

"You like?" Christian's cell phone has disappeared, and he is nervously staring at me.

"I love," I say as I shift closer to him on the back seat. He seems placated, his desire for my approval adorably touching.

When we exit the vehicle, Christian places a guiding hand on the small of my back. I cannot keep my neck from craning around, taking in every decadent aspect of this awe inspiring home. There must be a live in housekeeper, because I can smell fresh baked goods and there is fire burning in the massive fireplace.

"Do you want the tour now or something to eat?" He is already maneuvering me towards another room as he speaks.

"Tour, I think." I am not game to tell Christian I am really not in the mood for food. Now that we are here, I can only think about one thing.

He shows me through part of the downstairs, including the biggest fucking kitchen I have ever seen, before we head up the huge staircase. This isn't even his main house, and it surpasses any dwelling I have ever stepped foot in. I don't think I will ever get used to his wealth. I lose count of the number of bedrooms, living spaces and bathrooms.

"And this is the master suit," he says as he pushes open a set of double doors. I let out a gasp, because the view is simply breathtaking. Even in the moonlight I can see mountains, trees, and even a lake off in the distance.

"Master indeed, Mr. Grey," I say when I regain the power of speech. I am looking up at him as we stand at the threshold of the bedroom.

"Funny as always, Miss Steele." I walk further into the room, bewitched by the view. I hear doors shutting faintly behind me.

Suddenly we are alone at last, and just as sudden a quite unwelcome shyness hits me. Here I am staring out a beautiful bay window, literal mountains at my feet, with butterflies swarming my insides. Despite this nervousness I couldn't think of a more picturesque place, more secluded, to take this next step. Christian's arms encircle my waist from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"What I wouldn't give to know what you are thinking." His body is warm, comforting; I feel some of my boldness returning. This is a relationship built on trust, and I trust him.

"Same," I say as I spin on my heel. Our chests are mere inches apart, this moment somehow brazenly familiar. "Why don't we fix that?"

"How?" His head cocks to the side, making me smile.

"Simple." I shrug my shoulders like it is obvious. "I will tell you what I am thinking."

"A dangerous proposition," he says with a smirk. "Please, tell me."

"I was wondering why you don't like to be touched, because I so very much want to touch you." His expression darkens, saddens. Slowly, without explanation, he steps back from me and takes his shirt off. I bite my lip unconsciously, my eyes examining his chiseled chest. Before I can ask the obvious question, I catch a glimpse of a small circular scar; then another and another. "Are those burns?"

I look up from his chest, look into his wounded eyes. He nods ever so slightly. I raise my hand to touch him, but stop just short of making contact. Everything in me wants to ease his pain; I want to help him heal. My fingers tingle, wishing I could make contact with his skin. Somehow his tortured expression makes him hauntingly beautiful.

"There is so much more to the story, but at an early age my ability to trust another person's touch was destroyed." I can feel his gaze on my hand, I let in drop.

"And that is why you always pin my hands when we kiss?" He nods again, just as I realize something. "But you didn't earlier today, at my mother's house." I watch his face turn pensive, thoughtful; then it turns disbelieving. "Why didn't you pin my hands then?"

"I guess I trust that you won't hurt me," he says so softly that I almost don't hear him.

"But I had just, by your own admission, broken your trust." With all the power I have within me, I don't lower my gaze like a desperately want to. I am strong; I can be strong for him.

"Maybe that is true, I cannot explain it." He takes a step closer again. "I trust you won't hurt me." We stay like that, staring into each other's eyes, for a few moments.

"What were you thinking?" My voice is low, questioning. I am not sure I need to hear the answer anymore, somehow I almost feel like I already know.

"I don't want you to be my submissive," he says with conviction. "When you called me in tears, I never wanted to hear that sound again." Christian takes in a deep breath. "I knew that I didn't want to punish you. Not anymore."

"Christian." There is no sense of my earlier nerves; we both know where we are headed. Our eyes bore into one another's; there is a sense of promise in this exchange. I am not sure I have ever felt this close to another person in my life.

"Do you want to know what I am thinking right now?" There is something to the sound of his voice that stresses the importance of this moment, the absolute devotion contained within.

"Yes," I say breathlessly and full of need.

"I am yours." Christian takes my hand gently, slowing guiding it towards his chest. I feel the thumping of his heart beneath my fingertips. His eyes burn into me as I look up at him, the intimacy of the moment undeniable.

I start to draw my hand back down, but Christian doesn't let go. Slowly, warily, I touch his scars. He winces briefly as my hand makes contact with the skin on his chest, but ever so slowly I feel his apprehension wane; the expression on his face no longer in pain but in awe. His heart is beating steadily under my hand; I step closer and stretch onto my tiptoes.

"I am yours," I say it and mean it with my very soul. His arms encircle me, both of my hands now pressed against his bare chest. I don't wait, can't wait, any longer. I propel myself the small distance between us and kiss him as passionately as I can.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hope you all had a Happy Halloween! Somehow I feel I have picked the 'trick' option for you!

I wholeheartedly apologize for ending the chapter here, but it was the natural stopping point.

Chapter Twenty, well 'we aim to please'...

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	20. Chapter Twenty - Possession Of The Man

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty - Possession Of The Man

Electricity is burning through me, all around me, the energy between us completely uncontrolled. For the first time, in a passionate embrace with Christian, I have full use of my hands; I don't waste the chance I've been given. I run my fingers down the length of his naked torso, allowing my nails to rake ever so slightly over his flesh. Exhilarated by the sounds I illicit from him, I realize I have never felt so empowered.

"Fuck that feels good, Anastasia." Christian's voice is in my ear, his lips still pressed against my neck. I run my hands around his sides, trailing my fingers up his back. When his body bucks against me, I triumphantly smirk.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I say as my mouth seeks out his again. His hands come up to grip the sides of my face, as our tongues delve into each other's mouths.

Gently, slowly, I feel Christian begin to walk me backwards. The room is so large, my thoughts so consumed by him, that I have no idea where exactly the bed is. I know it is somewhere behind me, but Christian stops before I feel myself touch it. Purposefully he pulls back from the kiss, our arms still intertwined but our breathing shallow.

"There is still a lot you don't know about me," Christian says as he draws my eyes to his with just the power of his voice.

"I don't think there is anything you could say that will change my mind this time Christian." I nip his earlobe playfully. He groans, smacking me teasingly on the ass; shooting a spark of pleasure through my lower body. "And aren't you sick of talking?"

He doesn't give his answer verbally. Instead his hands find the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. This is the third time he has seen me topless, and you know they say third time is the charm. I don't shy away from his gaze as he examines my body. The pale blue lacy bra I am wearing doing me all kinds of favors.

"You are so beautiful, you have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss every single inch of you." He is still standing back from me, running the material of my shirt through his hands. His use of my phrasing from earlier doesn't go unnoticed by me.

As seductively as I can, I raise my hand up towards my neck. Running my finger along my jaw line, I watch his eyes track it as I run it down my body. His hands dart out when my hand reaches the button of my jeans. Looping his index fingers into my belt loops, he drags me towards him.

When our skin makes contact, as he hauls my body against his, I let out a very loud moan. He holds me tight, gripping me to his hips. I bite my bottom lip as he squeezes me tighter, languidly pushing his erection into me. Fuck, I don't know how much more I can take.

Suddenly, quite unexpectedly, he releases me and kneels before me. The smoldering look in his eyes ignites me just as much as his touch. As his hands reach up to undo the button on my jeans, I bury my hands into his hair. Slowly, with purpose, he drags my jeans down my legs; letting his fingernails tease my skin on the way.

I throw my head back as he begins to kiss my inner thighs, tugging absently at his hair. With my eyes shut my brain focuses entirely on following the progression of his tongue, as he now moves it along my right hipbone to my left. For a brief and oh so delicious moment he grazes where I need his attention the most with his nose, causing my grip in his hair to tighten; causing both of us to groan.

As I look down towards him, he gazes up at me through those impossibly long eyelashes of his. I see my desire reflected in the scorching gray of his eyes. I cannot look away, and I don't think he can either. Biting my lip suggestively, I tug at his hair upwards; I hope he gets my message. Christian does, breaking eye contact only when he leans forward to trail kisses along my body as he moves upwards.

When he is again standing, I grip onto his upper arms to step out of my jeans and shoes. His biceps flex under my hands as he grips my now naked hips; he is surprisingly strong and oh so muscular. I let my hands trace the skin of his arms, then remove my contact as I look down. With shaking, yet assured, hands I place my fingers on the button of his jeans.

His hands cover mine, forcing my gaze to return to his. There is a searing look in his eye, a look of vulnerability. I curse my shaking hands, as he must still think I am unsure. As I pull the button loose, he slowly pulls his jeans off and steps out of his own shoes. Our eyes are still locked onto each other's as he slowly starts to walk me backwards again.

I feel the bed come in contact with my knees, watch as Christian lends forward and tugs the duvet off the bed; I giggle as pillows are sent flying, I have never understood the need for twenty pillows on one bed. With a quick, yet hot kiss, he gently pushes me so I fall backwards onto the mattress.

With a growl low in his chest, Christian stops all motion and lets his eyes rake over my body. I thank my foresight in changing into this pale blue lacy set of underwear, because I can tell he likes it; the evidence of just how much is clear as I let my eyes rake over his body, noting his plain tight gray boxer briefs.

"You are so very beautiful Anastasia Steele," Christian says seductively. His voice, in this silent room, seems to be connected directly to my aching need; it makes my body tingle with even more desire. I start to shift my legs together on the bed, trying to get some much needed friction. "Oh, no you don't."

He leans down over me, grasping each of my ankles. I let out a frustrated groan, but it dies in my throat as he pulls my legs apart. As his hands move further up my legs, he grips my thighs and propels me further along on the mattress. It is then he crawls on the bed, settling himself between my legs. We make eye contact again as he hovers over me; my body squirming beneath him, full of need.

"Christian," I say with a voice I have never heard before. That is how wild with desire Christian has driven me; I cannot even recognize the sound of my own voice.

"Yes, Anastasia?" Christian shifts his head slightly back, pressing his lower body further into me. For a split second, my eyes slip shut in pleasure. He is cocking his head to the side, one of his hands running up from my hip to my waist and back down.

"I need you." I implore him with my eyes. The hand of his on my hip slowly travels upwards; I feel it shift under my body. When it makes contact with the clasp of my bra, I lean forward to give him better access. Christian's deft hand makes quick work, flinging the second to last piece of my clothing into the corner.

"Perfection," Christian says in a whisper as my breasts swell under his adoring gaze. He moves forward and kisses the side of each breast softly, tenderly. I thrust forward, and hear his answering chuckle. "Not enough?" I shake my head fervently.

While keeping eye contact with me, he brings his right index finger into his mouth; when he removes it, he licks his right thumb. My whole body shivers in anticipation. As his wet fingers make contact with my right nipple, my entire body bucks in sweet pleasure. I groan as his fingers grip and tease, the sensation going all the way to my groin.

The last thing I see before my eye shut is the triumphant smirk on Christian face as he moves his hand to my other breast. I don't know how he can manage it, but somehow one hand is still teasing my left nipple as his mouth begins to trail wet hot kisses along my stomach. As his tongue dips into my navel, I grip the sheets like my life depends on it.

"Fuck, Anastasia. You are so responsive, it makes my cock twitch." His voice sounds strained, sexy as hell. I will never make fun of his need for control again, his self control beyond reproach.

A familiar sensation is brewing between my legs, and as he tugs again on my nipple I nearly convulse beneath him. It is almost like Christian is playing my body like the piano, pressing all the right keys to elicit the right notes from me. Every nerve ending in my body is ablaze, the sweet agony of his sensual assault setting everything to overdrive. Suddenly his mouth, and his body, is moving upwards on my searing flesh.

"Let go, Anastasia." His voice is accompanied by an increasing pressure of his lower body on mine. As his teeth close around my right nipple, his fingers still teasing the left, he thrusts his body further into me; his hardest part causing delicious friction with my softest part.

It is the last piece of the sensual puzzle, my moan deafening as my body erupts in pure ecstasy. I am breathing hard, shallow, breaths when I open my eyes. His face is above me, his hands on my waist. My muscles are still twitching when he leans forward and rests his forehead against mine. His movement causes his erection to press further into me, causing another loud moan from me. Upon this sound his mouth claims mine, as his hands begin to move again.

Ripples of my orgasm are still flowing through me when I feel his fingers test the fabric of my panties. Shifting it to the slide, his index finger slips into my core; I feel my muscles clench around said finger as he moves it in slow circles. Christian breaks from the kiss and briefly closes his eyes, his breathing hitches. I hear a groan low in his throat.

"You are so tight, so wet, and so ready." He thrusts his finger deeper inside of me; I cry out and bring my hands to his boxer briefs. I tug at them as Christian palms my clitoris, hard.

Suddenly Christian shifts backs, taking my panties off swiftly. His entire manhood springs free as he removes his boxer briefs as well. I shallow audibly. Holy fucking shit, he is beyond huge. As I meet his eyes, I see the satisfied smirk plastered on his face. He covers my body once more with his. He kisses me gently, slowly, sensually. With both of us fully naked, we are on the precipice of the point of no return.

"Do you trust me?" Christian says as he break the kiss. He looks vulnerable again, never more beautiful, as he looks down at me.

"Yes," I say, punctuating it with a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Because I am trusting you to tell me the truth, how you feel." I shift slightly so I can kiss the furrow on his brow, causing a smile to return to his face.

"I trust you Christian, completely." With ferocity Christian takes my mouth with this. Just when I think I cannot take anymore, he pulls away from me.

He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a foil packet, and I watch as he kneels up and pulls a condom onto his considerable length. Spreading my legs far apart, he settles between them again. When he cups either side of my face with his hands, I am overwhelmed by the expression I see staring back as we make eye contact; it almost looks like love.

"Anastasia?" I know he is asking for the last time if I am sure.

"Please, Christian." I practically beg, tilting my hips upwards. He kisses me gently, as he brings his hands to my legs; with tender hands he brings my knees up, causing my back to arch.

With purposeful movements he positions himself, his eyes burning with intent into mine. I feel a pressure build, as I feel him slowly enter me. Suddenly I feel a sensation deep inside myself, my virginity now the possession of the man who has well and truly already taken possession of my love. The pain is sharp, and targeted; it causes my eyes to scrunch shut. This feeling of fullness is entirely new, foreign, and perhaps not entirely objectionable.

He stays stills, my comfort increasing as the seconds pass, allowing the pain to pass. When I open my eyes again, the concern he feels is evident. I can also see the adoration in his eyes, and despite my momentary discomfort I know I have made the right decision. I bring my hands up, from where they were gripping the sheets tightly, and place them onto his shoulder blades.

"I going to move now," he says, kisses me tenderly as he eases slowly back. The feeling is exquisite. I watch as he closes his eyes and groans before thrusting into me again. It is harder this time, causing me to cry out; but the pain immediately gives way to pleasure.

"Again," I whisper as I too let my eyes slip shut. Christian obliges.

"More?" Christian nibbles at my earlobe, the fingers of his right hand teasing my left nipple. All of the sensations are building onto each other.

"Yes," I say as a plea, as a moan and so much more.

When he thrusts into me this time, I thrust my hips in response. Our rhythm is instinctive, and completely harmonious. It doesn't take long for our pace to quicken, the sound of his pleasure only spurring me on faster. As his teeth pull at my lower lip, I let my nails drag over his back.

I didn't know this is how it would feel, didn't know that pain could make the pleasure all the more intense. On instinct, on my own desire, I arch my back further. The change in position makes the both of us moan. Somehow I can tell I am close to another orgasm, closer still as Christian spanks me and causes my back to arch further still.

"Come with me Anastasia," Christian says in a pant. His voice is apparently a key factor in unraveling me, because I climax as he says my name.

"Christian," I say incoherently, causing him to also climax with a hard thrust and my name on his lips again.

Our ragged breathing mingles together, the only sound now in the otherwise silent bedroom. I can feel his forehead once again pressed onto mine, his heart beating against my chest. I let my eyes remain closed, enjoying the feeling of being this close to Christian. When I can find conscious thought again, I realize I am sore; deliciously so though. I am also hungry.

"Christian." I don't think my ability to talk is fully back, because it comes out still like a moan.

"Anastasia," I hear Christian whisper softly above me. He sounds concerned. I mumble something incoherent. "Baby," he says as he kisses my forehead. I open my eyes, and he is hovering over the top of me.

"I think I need food," I say and it is immediately followed by a chuckle from Christian. "You sure can make a girl work up an appetite."

"What do you want?" He brushes the hair tenderly from my face.

"I don't know but I'll know it when I see it." I shift beneath him causing me to realize he is still inside me, causing me to clench myself around him. I feel him twitch, a smirk spreading across his face. "But I don't think I can walk." He chuckles again, kissing me chastely before carefully pulling out. I wince slightly at the odd sensation.

"Sorry, are you okay?" Christian is now standing beside the bed, I go to move but my body feels like lead. Instead I grab his hand, squeezing it affectionately.

"I feel surprisingly great." He smiles down at me as he moves forward. Scooping me up like I weigh nothing, he holds me close to his chest. I snuggle into him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

"Just you wait until tomorrow; you have been exerting muscles you have never used before." This causes me to chuckle and I kiss his chest twice, unable to stop the smile on my face from getting bigger.

As Christian goes to exit the bedroom, both of us look at the blood stained sheets at the same time; red rises up on my cheeks. Changing direction, he carries me into the adjourning bathroom instead. I watch as he turns the tap to hot in the open shower, stepping under the cascading water. It stings momentarily on my aching muscles.

There is a bench in the corner which Christian sets me down on. I look up at him as he picks up a wash cloth, smearing it with body wash. He kneels before me again, water spraying down over the both of us. With gentle care, and great concern, he cleans between my legs. I can see the red run out of the cloth as he wrings it out.

"Sorry," I say as I fiddle my fingers together.

"Don't apologize Anastasia." He leans forward, resting his head on my neck. "Not for that." He nuzzles behind my ear, before standing up and stepping back. "You are mine and only mine." His words are unintentionally seductive, and disbelievingly I feel desire stir within me. I shakily stand, rising up and tangling my hands in his hair.

"When can we do it again?" I feel him stir against my stomach, a smirk growing on his face cheekily.

"You are an insatiable one, are you?" I respond by standing on my tiptoes, capturing his bottom lip with my teeth. His eyes slip closed in rapture, a groan emitting from his chest. Without warning, his hand grips my elbow and spins me around. His chest presses against my back, his erect cock pressing delightfully into me.

"Put your hands on the wall Anastasia," he says and I follow his command. "Now don't move." I feel his presence leave the shower, my body already quivering in need. From the corner of my eye I see him reenter the shower, holding a condom in his hand.

"Please," my voice is as shaky as my legs. After a brief pause, I add "Sir." Immediately I feel a smack on my ass, then his hand grips my waist.

"I am going to take you from behind. You ready for that?" I feel him position himself against me, his left hand shifting my body gently as well.

"Oh, yes Sir." I move my hips slightly; I feel his cock enter me by a fraction.

"Say that one more time." His right hand is now teasing my clitoris, massaging it with skilled fingers. The left has found its way to my left nipple, his teeth at my earlobe. All the while I have kept my hands on the wall, the shower spray raining down on us.

"Sir," I say and he enters me as far as my body will allow. I let out a scream of pure unfiltered pleasure.

Christian wastes no time, pulling out before slamming into me again and again. It is a more punishing pace this time, but I can tell he is still holding back. I take all that he is giving me though, arching as far as I can to give him the deepest access to my body as possible. As he tugs painfully on my hair, I release violently and oh so gratifyingly.

"Say it again," he whispers in my ear as I ride the wave of another orgasm.

"Sir," I scream as I fall apart. His release is instantaneous, his body leaning harder against me and I moan as he spanks my lightly.

Slowly our panting dies down, before Christian pulls out of me. My hands are still pressed against the shower wall, but I push off and lean my back against Christian's chest. His hand moves up, tilting my chin sideways so he can capture my lips with his own. Unlike the pounding my body just took, his kiss is slow and sensual.

When he releases my lips, he slowly cleans my entire body before cleaning up myself. As he turns the tap off, stopping the falling water, he picks me up again and carries me to the vanity. The cool marble is such a difference from the hot spray of the shower. Neither of us feels the need to converse as Christian dries my body with a large fluffy towel, both feeling content.

Once we are both dry, and after Christian halts my attempts at more heated kisses, he carries me back into the bedroom. I watch from the small loveseat in the corner as he changes the sheets on the bed. He is surprisingly skilled at it, especially for someone who probably has a housekeeper. I smile up at him when he is finished, when he stands in front of me. As he leans down, my arms go around his shoulders and my legs around his waist.

"Shouldn't we put some clothes on?" I say between my open mouth kisses on his chest. He has carried me out of the bedroom and is currently approaching the stairs,

"Only if you want to, but I was serious. We are the only two people in this house tonight, the staff left the minute we arrived." His hands are gripping my ass while he slowly maneuvers downstairs.

"Even Taylor?" Christian chuckles, the sound reverberating through my entire body. Oh my, that feels good.

"Yes, even Taylor." He smacks my ass playfully; I am getting to love that. "And if it is all the same to you, I would really rather you stay deliciously naked," he says as we step finally into the kitchen. He places me down on the counter and opens the fridge. "See anything you want?"

I absentmindedly allow my mouth to upturn into a cheeky smirk. As I boldly spread my legs, giving him a view of all of me, Christian lets a lazy smile claim his face as well. He gently closes the fridge, slowly stalking his way back across the kitchen towards me. With great intent, I put my lower lip between my teeth.

"I dare not fuck you again my dear, cannot overuse our new avenue of pleasure." Christian's voice is low, husky, and as sexy as the fucking we have been engaged in.

"But I want you," I say as he comes to a stop between my open legs.

Suddenly Christian grips my ankles, making me squeal as he pulls me to the edge of the counter. He throws my legs over his shoulders, causing me to lie back and thrust myself towards his face. I grip the sides of the counter with my hands as I feel him blow on my entrance, my legs wrapping around his neck. How is every new sensation different, yet still oh so delicious?

"Well, there is something I can do for that." Then his mouth is kissing circles around my clitoris, up and along my thighs. I bite my lip harder just as his tongue drags along my slit. As he tongue mirrors the thrusts of another part of his anatomy from earlier, his fingers find my pleasure spots.

"Don't stop," I cry out as I begin to see stars in front of my eyes. Perhaps he is right; I don't think my body can handle too much more pleasure tonight.

His tongue is suddenly replaced by two of his fingers, his mouth swapping places with his hand. Using the slightest amount of pressure, Christian uses his teeth to bite down on my clitoris. The pain of his teeth teasing me sets off a chain reaction when he releases it, another orgasm immediately exploding through my body with no warning.

When Christian untangles my limbs from around him, he pulls me up and against him. Due to the fact I am still sitting on the kitchen counter, we are at eye level. His eyes are burning with triumph, but I hope mine are conveying appreciation and awe. In the silent room, my stomach roars due to its unfulfilled desire.

"We need to get some food into you before you pass out." Christian captures my mouth with his, the taste of my desire in his kiss. I nod as he pulls away and crosses back to the waiting sustenance. I eye his naked behind as he paws through the fridge, thinking to myself that I don't remember ever being this happy or complete.

* * *

Author's Note:

Finally! Am I right?

All elements of the books remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One - Full Of Surprises

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One - Full Of Surprises

I have lost count the number of times, and the number of rooms in, Christian and I have had sex over the last two days. However, I will not be able to forget joining the mile high club as we fly back to Seattle. As an apology, because we are heading back Saturday due to Christian's work schedule, he offered to show me the plane's bedroom. The only thing I wanted to know was if the door locked, and even that wasn't high priority.

Ironically we didn't even make it to the bed; instead somehow I ended up astride him on the floor, Christian's back against the locked door. He doesn't grant me control, but I take it with a wicked smile. I knew wearing a skirt would pay off today. As I capture his lips with my own, I know we both want it hard and fast.

The slow mountain car ride to the airport and take off was one long drawn out foreplay session. As I clench my thighs tighter around Christian's waist, while undoing his pant's zip, I feel his hands grip my ass underneath my skirt. Letting an evil grin spread across my face, I watch Christian as he realizes I am not wearing panties.

"Miss Steele, did we forget something this morning?" My eyes slip closed in pleasure as Christian slips a finger inside of me. I thrust my body further into his, letting out a fractured moan when he adds a second finger.

"Whatever do you mean Sir?" I squeal in delight, and arousal, when Christian spanks me; satisfyingly hard.

"Explain your state of undress." I purposefully lock my eyes onto his as I reach forward and release his cock from his boxer briefs. He groans as I wrap my hands around his length, groans lower when I begin to tease him.

Withdrawing only one hand, the other still working his shaft, I reach into his jacket inside pocket. I let my nails graze his chest, catching his nipple and causing him to buck. I pull out the condom I saw him tuck in his pocket earlier, ripping it open with my teeth. With still non expert hands, I roll the condom onto him as his hands guide mine.

"This is not an explanation Miss Steele," Christian says with a voice laced with lust. Somehow even as I position myself over him, he cannot resist the urge to tease me.

"No, but it is an answer." He grips my waist tightly, and we make searing eye contact as I bite my lower lip. With as much control as I have had during sex, I lower myself onto his throbbing cock.

I throw my head back at the new sensation, being on top just might suit me. With the way I am above him, he is hitting new depths inside of me. In all the positions we have tried, and there were a lot, it still takes me by surprise how different they can feel. As I circle my hips just so, Christian growls beneath me.

"I knew if I ever gave you control, you would tease me relentlessly," he says with a powerfully sexy tone. With a swift move he spanks me again, causing me to moan and thrust into him. We aren't fooling each other; he is still very much in control.

Together we begin to move, hard and fast just like I predicted. At first he is guiding my movements, but that doesn't last long as I pick it up quickly. Our hands explore each other's flesh, our ministrations encumbered by the fact that we are still practically fully clothed. By using Christian as leverage, I pull at his hair as my thrusts become more erratic.

From the sounds I am increasingly getting used to, I can tell neither Christian nor I can last much longer. It doesn't dawn on me to be embarrassed by the amount of sound we are making, but I probably should be. The plane hits turbulence, throwing us into weightlessness for a few moments. With the new movement in our environment, and sudden surprise, our bodies both release in ecstasy with my scream echoing in the enclosed space. I collapse onto Christian, our chests pressed together as they rise and fall. He strokes my hair tenderly, both of us content.

"Fuck," I whisper after I few minutes. When Christian chuckles it vibrates my whole body, causing me to clench myself around him as he is still buried deep within me. The plane suddenly hits more turbulence, and I feel Christian twitch.

"I think we should probably get back to our seats Anastasia." His arms have protectively wrapped around me. I shake my head against him, turning my head to nestle into his neck. With a strength and skill that is a huge turn on, Christian grips me and stands.

I maneuver slightly, as he withdraws from within me. Instead of standing though, I wrap my legs around his hips. With my head still at his neck, I plant a tender kiss just below his ear. He takes two steps in the small bedroom, taking us into the smallest bathroom ever. As my bottom hits the counter, I finally release my legs from around him. We clean each other off, and I watch as Christian readjusts his suit.

"That was some apology Mr. Grey," I say as he buckles his belt. Both of his hands find their way to my hips. He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine.

"I really wish we could have stayed another day, I think we missed a couple of rooms." His smirk is as sexy as it is disarming.

"Fucking on the washing machine was fun." With an absent mind, I begin to run my hand up and down his chest.

"Not as much fun as fucking your mouth on the mountain trail," his voice drops lower. Oh my, that was fun. I pivot myself upwards, capturing his bottom lip with my teeth. It is very easy for the two of us to get carried away.

After another patch of turbulence, Christian and I reluctantly find our way back to our seats. I can see from out the window that we are flying through a rather angry looking storm cloud. The rest of the flight back is rather uneventful, the five hours literally flying by. Touchdown is smooth, a real credit to the pilot; a light drizzle of rain has already begun here.

The streets of Seattle look the same, yet I feel like I am looking at them with different eyes. Christian's hand is clasped around mine, his thumb drawing circles on my inner wrist, as we sit in the back of a Taylor driven Escalade. I am not ready for the bubble to burst, not ready for a return to normal. Still being new to the city, I am unable to tell whether we are headed to my apartment or his.

"Anastasia?" Christian's quiet voice reaches my ears, causing me to turn to him. He hasn't asked a question, but I hear hesitation in the way he said my name.

"Yes, Christian?" With my free hand, I reach over and stroke his cheek lightly. He leans into my touch.

"Stay with me tonight." Slowly I move closer towards him.

"I thought you would never ask." His smile mirrors mine before he chastely captures my lips with his own. My answer was clearly a forgone conclusion as not five minutes later we are entering the underground car lot of Escala.

During the elevator ride upwards, Christian's hands find their way under my skirt again. There are no complaints this time about my lack of panties; yet I find myself wishing the trip skywards was longer, as when the doors open his hands withdraw from below my skirt. Instead he puts a hand to the small of my back and leads me to the kitchen.

Standing over the stove is an elegant middle aged woman, her short blonde hair pinned at her neck. When she turns around her clear blue eyes sparkle with obviously delight. It takes a few moments for the unmistakable smell of marinara sauce to hit my nose. Only then do I notice the apron tied around her navy-blue pencil skirt and plain white tailored shirt.

"Anastasia, please meet Mrs. Gail Jones." Christian is guiding me forward. "My housekeeper, I would be lost without her."

"Lovely to finally meet you Miss Steele," Mrs. Jones says as I step away from Christian. She outstretches her hand which I shake. Her smile is warm and inviting; yet my mind cannot stop focusing on her shining blonde hair.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Jones. And please call me Ana." I watch her look towards Christian, who I can feel standing just behind me.

"Then you simply must call me Gail," she says as she looks back at me. Hard ass Christian just might be calming down. I like to think I had something to do with it.

"Alright Gail, what is that lovely smell?" I say as I cock my head slightly to the side, finally letting a genuine smile overtake my face. Christian wraps his arm around my body, resting his hand at my hip. Gail beams at the both of us.

"Chicken Parmigiana, should be out of the oven in about five minutes." She turns from us and stirs something on the stove. "Christian let me know what time you would be home, and I knew you would be hungry." I blush, even though I know she means we had a long flight. She couldn't possibly know the real reason I have been hungry since we arrived in Aspen.

Out of the corner of my eye I see movement behind us, and Taylor comes into the kitchen holding my handbag. Without breaking his hold on me, Christian reaches out and takes it from him; he places it on one of the nearby stools. I find myself hoping, knowing, one of the chicken pieces is for Taylor. Christian and Taylor share a look, and Christian nods.

"Sir, Miss Steele." Taylor nods back and disappears again. Christian kisses my temple and is suddenly leading me to the dining table.

Gail has laid out a beautiful table setting in front of two seats, Christian pulls out one of the chairs and gestures for me to sit. I gaze at him from across the table once he takes his seat. There are calming white roses, their fragrance filling the space between Christian and I. His hand touches my knee under the table, and despite my rumbling stomach I want to disappear into the bedroom.

"Thanks for a perfect couple of days Christian," I say as I lay my hand over his.

"We aim to please." He knowingly smirks at me. Before I can speak again, Gail is delivering our food.

The dinner is absolutely delicious, better than any parmigiana's I have ever made. Accompanying the chicken is a nice fresh salad that tastes somehow like summer. It doesn't take either of us long to clear our plates, conversation only remaining light during; the crisp white wine Christian pours for me pairing perfectly with the food. I am beyond elated when Christian retrieves dessert from the kitchen, a chocolate ganache mousse cake.

"Chocolate cake, I should have known," I say with a smirk as Christian sets a piece between us, having pulled his chair right next to mine. He holds a spoonful before my lips, which I greedily take into my mouth. I moan at the deliciousness.

"Too bad we are not alone; I would love to eat this cake off of you." He takes a mouthful himself and I cannot stop myself from closing the distance to capture his lips with mine. I can taste the chocolate; feel his hands on my body.

"Delicious," I say in a whisper into his ear when we break apart. When he looks me in the eyes, I know he knows I am not talking about the cake.

"Fuck," he says with a small shake of his head.

"Yes, please." His answering chuckle makes my insides flip.

"Insatiable, I love it." He kisses me quickly on the lips and pushes his chair slightly back from me. "Could we possibly press pause for say about an hour?" Christian gazes at me from across the table where he is returning his chair to its rightful place. "I just need to do some catch up stuff and then I am all yours again."

"I am just happy to be here, with you. Take all the time you need." I smile, and then wickedly bite my lip. He closes the space between us again, hauling me up from the table fervently.

"You know what that does to me," he says with a low and sexy voice before capturing my lips roughly with his. He takes my breath away; I grip onto him for support. When he releases my mouth, he smirks at me triumphantly. He knows how wet I am, his hand is cupping my ass. "Feel free to explore, think of it as your place too now."

With that he turns and strides out of the room. After my legs stop shaking, I wander into the kitchen where Gail vehemently denies my offers to help clean up. So instead I grab my handbag, and pull out my phone. It feels like I haven't touched it in days, which I suppose I haven't. There are a few texts from Kate, a couple from Ethan, and one I ignore from Jose. As I explore a bit of Christian's apartment, an idea strikes me for what I can do tomorrow.

I push open a door near the stairs looking for a bit of privacy, the room that is on the other side is roughly the same size as the red room upstairs; so I assume that is directly above this spot. This room however is filled floor to ceiling with books not whips and cuffs, which is revealed when I switch on the light. If it was possible to find a room sexually arousing, this would be the one for me.

In the centre of the room is a billiard table, plus there are two plush single lounge chairs nestled between two of the bookcases. I claim a chair and dial Mia's number. As I wait for the call to connect, I let my eyes wander over the closest shelves. Man I cannot wait to crack the spines on some of these books.

"Ana," Mia's voice practically squeals on the other end of the line.

"Mia, how are you?" I can already feel a smile starting to form on my face. This girl is happiness personified.

"Fabulous as always," she giggles like the carefree spirit she is. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I am back in Seattle and I have my first day of work on Monday." I take a breath; the excitement over starting work has been suppressed during my escape with Christian. "I was hoping you might be free for the salon visit tomorrow?"

"Oh perfect, new job needs professionally styled hair." I didn't want to admit it but I thought maybe Mia was just being polite with her invitation. I am glad to know she actually wants to spend time with me. "I can pick you up; just shoot me directions to your place in a text."

"Funny story, but I am actually staying at Christian's tonight." I hear another squeal on the other end of the line. "I think he has some early-ish meetings tomorrow, so could you pick me up here after he leaves for Grey House?"

"Oh wait until I see Christian, that little secretive spy." Mia's voice has dropped to a restrained whisper.

"Please don't make a big deal out of this," I say quickly. It hadn't occurred to me that I shouldn't let Mia know I am spending the night at Christian's. I suddenly find myself hoping he won't be mad at me. Surely he will be happy I am spending some time with his sister.

"Ana, he never lets us know when he has a girlfriend." For good reason I might add. "But, I promise I won't freak out over the best thing to happen to my brother." I inwardly beam; she thinks I am the best thing for Christian.

"Would 9am work for you Mia?" I am pretty confident that Christian will have made his way to work by then.

"Can't wait, see you then." She giggles again. "We have so much to talk about. Bye."

"See you," I say before we both disconnect the call.

I tuck my phone back into my bag, which I dump on the floor. Excitement fills me, and if Christian is mad I told Mia about us then so be it. The real trouble will be telling Kate I went to a salon without her, and with another woman. Maybe it will take some of the attention off of the fact I have just spent a couple days in bed with a man. Ha, who am I kidding? At least I don't have to share my news with her until tomorrow. I am not quite ready to share Christian with Kate just yet.

There is a stunning copy of 'Paradise Lost', which I pull off of the shelf next to me. I allow myself to become immersed in the world of Milton's creation. With no concept of the time past, I don't realize Christian is in the room with me until I feel his hand slide up my leg. We make eye contact over the spine of the book. He is kneeling before me.

"You sure can concentrate Miss Steele," he says as a lazy, seductive, smile spreads across his face.

"My apologies Sir, but I was in another world." The hand on my leg travels up further, the other takes the book from me and deposits it on the nearest surface.

"If you want to go places, baby I can take you." Both of his hands are now cupping my ass and pulling me further down the chair, pulling me closer to him. I let my legs spread, my ankles hooking behind his body.

"Show me Mr. Grey." My voice is already breathless, full of want and desire. With the way he smirks at me before burying his head under my skirt, I know he is going to take it teasingly slow.

His hands, his lips, his teeth, they all touch me with delicious intent; never where I need it most. Only when I am sure that there is a possibility I am going to come without him doing so, does he turn his attentions to my clitoris. My hands are gripping the shelf behind me, my body completely at his mercy. He is making me wait, building and building onto my arousal.

"Please, Christian," I say pleadingly. Honestly I am not even sure what I am asking for, I just know I need to release before I explode.

"Oh Anastasia, the places I could take you." I thrust myself forward, the loss of his mouth on my body unbearable. "If you will only let me."

"I am yours, do what you want with me." I think I almost climax when I hear the animalistic growl that emits from his chest at my words. In less than a minute, his tongue gives me what I want.

"Fuck yes Christian," I scream into the otherwise silent room. "Oh, Christian." He doesn't stop his movement, making the sensation last even longer.

I black out in the best possible way. When I finally arise it is because there is sun shining onto my face. A beautiful view of all of Seattle is in front of me. Christian is wound around me like a vine, a seductive but completely asleep vine. Since we arrived in Aspen, I have been waking up to his beautiful visage every morning; however I don't think I will ever get used to it.

As I let my eyes take in Christian's bedroom, I realize it is the first time I have been in here. The bedroom itself is vast; the bed we are on is enormous and ultramodern. I find myself quite liking the rough driftwood material, and the four posters surrounding us. I wish it had a canopy though; it would fit with his commanding personality.

I must be been moving too much, because I can feel Christian stir behind me. His morning erection is pressing into my back and I wiggle further into him. The pressure of his grip around me increases, and I know he is now fully awake. I feel his nose nuzzle into my hair, and I lean back into his touch. Being the little spoon is so comforting.

"I cannot believe I have to leave you, here in my bed," he says in a whisper. He has begun to trail feather light kisses around my ear and down my neck.

My eyes flitter shut as his hand moves down, teasing my stomach, moving over my hip and down my thigh. I reach over to the bedside and grab a condom, hearing him groan in approval. With one hand he grasps my hair in a fist, his teeth nipping at my nape. Using the other hand, he takes the condom from me after pushing my knee up higher.

With his skill and dexterity, he is taking me from behind in no time. The pace is slow, lazy, and loving. Every movement is deliberate and erotically intimate. It doesn't escape my notice that he has me pinned this time so I cannot move, he is purposefully dominating me. I find myself submitting to his every whim, my body climbing with his towards ecstasy.

"Fuck, you don't know how perfect you are Anastasia." Infinitesimally Christian increases his pace, increases the pressure of his hold on me too.

"Only for you Christian," I say as a moan, drawing his name out lustfully. This causes Christian to quicken his pace even more, which causes my body to respond equally.

"That is right, only me." My body is wound so tight I know I am close. As his pace turns punishing, I feel a switch flick within me and I detonate loudly. My climax pushes Christian over the precipice after another couple of hard thrusts. We lay there panting for a few minutes.

"I now understand the perfection that is the Sunday Morning Fuck," I say with a giggle as Christian pulls out of me. Christian answers me with a light spank on my ass, causing me to giggle more.

"That mouth of yours Miss Steele." He kisses me on the back of the neck. "Whatever will I do with it?"

"Stay and I can show you what I can do with it." I turn in bed and face him. Our chests press together and he groans. Bringing up a hand, Christian swipes the hair from my face.

"You are a siren Anastasia Steele," he says in awe. "But if I don't leave this bed now, I may never again." He kisses me sweetly, his fingers burying themselves into my hair. I grip his forearm.

"Okay, go rule the world," I say with a smile when we break from the kiss. He touches his forehead to mine before rolling out of the bed. "Even if I don't understand why you need to work on a Sunday," I say calling after him.

I listen as he turns on the shower, wrapping the sheet tightly around myself while I imagine Christian under the water. My muscles are deliciously sore, well used. Perhaps I should look at getting a gym membership so I can keep up with Christian. A longer stamina would only be a good thing, for me and him.

"This is my new favorite view," I hear Christian say suddenly. He is tying his tie, standing at the end of the bed. I must have dozed off a little. I blush bright red as he is ogling me. "Simply exquisite."

"Keeping talking like that and I won't let you leave." I sit up on the bed, holding the sheet to my chest. I watch Christian shrug on a suit jacket, light grey today. He leans down and captures my lips in a quick kiss.

"There is food in the kitchen, eat." His stern expression is sexy as all hell.

"Okay, Sir." I stare intently up at him, letting a playful yet serious expression overtake my face.

"Will you be here when I get home?" His voice is suddenly vulnerable. He wants me to stay.

"I want to run some errands, and I should probably stay at my place tonight. But," I say as my eyes search his face. "I will be here when you finish work." He kisses me quickly again before smirking, his face suddenly elated.

"Laters, Baby." I laugh, hard. He is really just beautiful.

"Laters, Baby." With another too brief kiss, he turns and strides from the room.

Once his sexy ass has left the bedroom I stretch out my body, springing from the bed. Since Aspen I have gotten used to being naked, so I don't bother with clothes as I explore his bedroom. I walk through a door assuming it would be the bathroom, but instead find a walk in closet. There are lines upon lines of suits, shirts, shoes, and ties; holy fucking shit, who needs this many clothes? Christian really is the ultimate consumer. Sitting near a plush bench seat in the middle of the space are my duffle bags. Taylor must have brought them in here, sweet man.

Most of the clothes haven't been worn. Christian and I didn't do much wearing of clothes in Aspen. I grab a pair of black skinny jeans, a cute blue baby doll top and a fresh underwear set. Silently I thank my mother for practically dragging me into Victoria's Secret. I back out of the ridiculously closet, trying the closed door beside it. I am rewarded with the bathroom.

The room is still steaming from Christian's shower, and I now know he does indeed like his showers punishingly hot. As bathrooms go, this is hands down the most beautiful one I have ever seen. I take a long shower, vaguely aware that I have plenty of time to get ready before I am expecting Mia. Once I am done, I put a light amount of makeup on as I am going to a salon after all; I know how judgmental some stylists can be.

Gail presents me with a Latte when I reach the kitchen, and I notice she is drinking tea. I also learn the woman can make a mean omelet. I see from the time on my phone that it is only about 08:00, so I spend some time chatting with Gail as she cleans up breakfast. It is so comforting to know someone as wonderful as her is looking after Christian.

Mia arrives early, which is not really a surprise. I think she was trying to catch Christian before he left for the day. Despite Christian's claims early on in our relationship that he cannot love, his family loves him dearly. Plus it is clear she wanted to see Christian and me together. You have to be up pretty early to catch Christian Grey though.

"Sorry to have missed him," Mia says with a pout. I know instantly this woman never hears the word no.

"I am sure he would be too." I sling my handbag over my shoulder, ready to go. "There is a chance I didn't tell him we were meeting up, thought I would surprise him." We start to walk to the elevator together; Mia presses the down button when we reach it.

"Oh, Christian doesn't do too well with surprises." Of course Mr. Control Freak doesn't like surprises.

"He is just going to have to learn, because life is full of surprises." Mia smiles like a conspirator as we board the elevator.

"True that Ana, true that." We both start to chuckle as the doors close, starting our journey downwards with laughter.

Mia drives a zippy little Audi; in a pink color that I am sure isn't standard from the factory. She plays pop music too loudly, sings beautifully along with it, and drives too fast. However there is no denying that she is absolutely fun to be around. I have a feeling Mia, Kate, and I could get in a lot of trouble together.

"So, tell me about my brother?" Mia says as she changes lanes quickly. "Do you make each other happy?" I nod, but her eyes are on the road where they should be.

"Very happy." I start to fiddle with the end of my hair. "I have never felt like this before." The car begins to slow and Mia pulls into a parking spot. She turns in her seat as she engages the parking brake.

"In love?" She reaches over and touches my hand gently. Could I possibly be in love?

"I can't be. It is way too soon." I shake my head before I turn and look her in the eyes.

"Life is full of surprises Ana." Her sweet smile is open, honest, and supportive. "By the way," she says as her voice changes tone. "We are here." She gestures with her head over her shoulder.

I shake myself off as we get out of the car. Putting the thoughts of love in a box at the back of my brain, I follow Mia into an impressive looking building. The salon is called Esclava; the interior is all white and leather, beautiful long mirrors and pink peony flowers. As I touch one of the leather chairs I miss Christian suddenly. Get a grip Steele.

As Mia strides further into the salon, I am taken aback by how beautiful and alluring the place is. Letting my eyes take in all the decadence, I suddenly get this strange feeling. I cannot explain the tingling at the back of my neck. When I subtly turn around I see a glamorous, classic beauty type standing near the front counter.

Never good with guessing ages, but she appears to be late thirties or early forties. Her platinum blonde hair gloriously styled. The tight fitting black ensemble she is wearing is doing wonders for her figure, making her tall frame seem all the skinnier. For some reason the word regal pops into my head as a descriptor for her.

"Mia," the woman drawls in a fake ass accent. Maybe not so regal after all.

"Elena," Mia says as she touches my arm and gestures with her head for me to follow. We walk over to the counter, which Elena has perched herself behind. "I know it is terribly naughty, but I haven't made an appointment."

"Don't be silly dear," Elena pats Mia on the hand as she speaks. Then her gaze turns to me. "Who is your friend?"

"This is Ana." Mia smiles at me, and I cannot help but let her mood lift mine as I smile back. "She is my brother's girlfriend, and I was hoping you could squeeze us both in so we could become friends." When Mia and I turn our gazes back to Elena I am disconcerted by the way she is looking at me.

"Well of course," she says with her tone elevated but flat. "I will have our two best stylists over in double time. Only the best for Mia and Anastasia." It doesn't occur to me that Elena called me by my name, and not my nickname, until she has disappeared down the back corridor of the salon.

I don't have long to think about it either, as true to her word two stylists appear within a minute. They whisk us away and start their work on Mia and me. I explain to Monica, my stylist, that I really only want a trim and a blow out. She spends a few minutes gushing over my hair, before convincing me to let her wash it.

Despite my usually aversion to salons I find myself relaxing quite easily. Maybe it is all the sex over the last few days, but I feel an obvious lack of tension within myself. As I examine the handy work of Monica after she declares me finished, I see Elena emerge from the back rooms in the mirror I am staring into.

"Perfect," I say with a smile. I stand quickly, planning on making my way over to Elena to ask how she knew my name. I abruptly stop though and my stomach clenches as I see Christian walk up from behind her. He is holding a document holder, clearly pissed off. I shift over to where Mia is, hoping they didn't see me.

"Mia, why is Christian here?" I say with a hushed tone.

"Didn't you know? He is a silent partner, practically owns this salon chain." She shrugs, standing up from her own chair. "Elena is an old friend of Mom's." Suddenly I feel lightheaded.

I watch as Elena talks to Christian, his body language completely closed off. There is a nagging in my brain, a concealed truth vying to be revealed. Suddenly Elena gestures in mine and Mia's direction, causing Christian to turn towards us. The world seems to stop moving as we make eye contact across the crowded salon.

Elena is still talking away; she doesn't seem to notice, or care, about the complete change in Christian's demeanor. She is trying to portray a look of authority over Christian, but his face has been frozen since he saw me. Suddenly, on some visceral level, I know who this woman is. It is Mrs. Robinson.

* * *

Author's Note:

This chapter just kept getting longer and longer, but they just kept wanting to have sex and who am I to say no?!

Sorry about not posting my weekly update last week, life just got in the way, hope this makes up for it a little. Sorry about the abrupt ending, but it had to end somewhere.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two - Elena AKA

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two - Elena AKA Mrs. Robinson

Time stands still for a moment, my mind going about a thousand miles an hour. Is this the business we had to come back from Aspen for? I wish I knew what was going on behind those gray eyes of his, as they are still locked onto mine with an unreadable emotion contained within. Elena is still talking away, but the expression on her face is increasingly infuriated. The moment is broken when Mia, who still has foils in her hair, suddenly calls out.

"Christian isn't Ana's hair beautiful?" She is apparently completely unaware of the strange anxious energy that has consumed the room. Her voice is enough to snap both of us out of it.

I touch her shoulder lightly before I head over to Christian and Elena. As I come to a stop beside Christian, he reaches out with the hand not carrying the document holder and takes my hand in his. Our fingers lace together instinctively and he squeezes my hand tightly. With all the tact I possess, I turn and smile at Mrs. Robinson.

"Well, this explains how you knew my name earlier." I don't feel good about the possibility that Christian has spoken about me with her. I passive aggressively withdraw my hand from Christian grip; I feel him shift beside me and swap the document holder to the hand I have just made vacant, I hear him grip the leather hard.

"Oh Darling, you simply just look like all the rest." I fight the urge to vomit suddenly, trying to keep my face devoid of my overwhelming revulsion. It has been a while since I have thought about the fifteen submissive women of my lover's past. Christian reaches out and grips Elena's upper arm, I think in an unspoken warning. "What I mean is I knew you must be the Anastasia that is Christian's girlfriend." She puts on smile on her face, but her eyes narrow.

"Naturally that is what you meant." My voice is not as strong as I would like. I watch Christian withdraw his grip from Elena, and I watch as she rubs where he held her. Christian still hasn't said a word since he saw me, but suddenly he clears his throat.

"Anastasia," he says softly, apprehensively. He gently takes my upper arm and we walk a couple of paces away from Elena. "What are you doing here?"

"Mia offered a salon trip when I got back into Seattle, and since you were supposed to be at work all day I thought I would seize the moment." I notice a little v form between his eyebrows, the pensive look unnervingly attractive. "Should I not be spending time with your sister?"

"I love that you are spending time with Mia." His hand travels up my arm, cupping my shoulder lightly; he is almost pulling me closer towards him. I think he senses my less than thrilled mood though, because instead he shifts slightly backwards. "I just never expected to see you here."

"Mia mentioned that you aren't a fan of surprises." After this, I might not be either.

"Depends on the surprise, you surprise me constantly." The melancholy expression lifts momentarily as he smirks for a couple of seconds. Despite the tense situation, I return his look with a quick smile. "I will admit this isn't my favorite surprise."

"Nor mine." Shaking my head slowly from side to side, I keep my eyes locked onto Christian's concerned face.

"Can I drive you back to my apartment?" Without thinking, as it is so normal between us now, I reach forward and lay my hand on Christian's chest. His free hand reaches up and rests tenderly over the top of mine.

"I was going to have lunch with Mia, I thought you would be gone until the afternoon." Out of the corner of my eye I can see the shocked expression on Elena's face. Fuck her, I think as I commit my full attention to Christian's sad eyes.

"I will be, got to get these documents here to my lawyers." He moves closer to me now, our noses almost touching. "But if I could steal some time with Miss Steele, worth a shot." He has whispered the last part, and despite my apprehensive over Mrs. Robinson I feel another smile spread on my face. Christian always has this effect on me; the effect of happiness.

"After lunch I will get Mia to drop me off at your place. Don't keep me waiting too long Mr. Grey." I let a wicked smirk cover my face and he leans forward to close the distance between us.

It is thrilling that he doesn't seem to mind that we are in public, thrilling that he is claiming me for all to see. I let both of my hands run up his chest, feeling his hard muscles beneath my fingers. He growls low, yet restrained. Suddenly I hear clapping from somewhere behind us and we break apart. I turn and see Mia slapping her hands together.

"Finally," she says with an almighty squeal. "You two are just too perfect." I turn back to Christian and bury my face into his chest. His chuckle reaches my ears and I pull back to look up at him.

"I am never going to hear the end of this," he says with a big smile on his face.

"You aren't going to lunch with her after this." Disdain is in my voice, yet I am still looking forward to spending more time with Mia; even if I will be inundated with questions. Christian laughs again, touching my newly cut hair gently.

"Goodbye Elena." Christian is still looking into my eyes as he addresses his parting words to Mrs. Robinson. He leans forward and sweetly kisses me on the forehead. "Laters, Baby." As it always does, these two words coming from him cause me to laugh.

"Laters, Baby." We chastely kiss once on the lips before he strides from the salon; Christian not looking at Elena again before he leaves.

"Anastasia," says Elena's icy voice from beside me. Before she can continue though, Mia comes striding over. The stylist is trailing closing behind Mia, clearly concerned with Mia moving about with foils still layered throughout her hair.

"Come sit with me Ana, I want to hear more about you and my brother," Mia says in a singsong voice and grabs my hand gently. I let her lead me away from Elena, but not before I see her huff and turn to walk back down the rear corridor.

While Mia continues getting worked on by her stylist, we are provided with fancy water as we chat about anything and everything. I have never realized how long it can take for a person to get their hair dyed. You can't argue with the results though, as Mia looks totally different from when we first entered Esclava. She is scrutinizing it in the mirror when completed, all the while still scrutinizing me.

"When you had dinner at my parent's house, both you and Christian were proclaiming that you were only friends," Mia says with a forceful tug at her hair. She shifts slightly back and smiles at her reflection. "When did that change?"

"Less than a week ago I suppose." I say it quietly, almost to myself. Has it really only been that long?

"Wow, so I'm the first to know then?" Mia turns from the mirror, smiling wide. I guess she is, unless you count Taylor, Gail and the entire cabin crew on Christian's plane.

"I think my Mom and her husband knew something was going on when Christian showed up in Savannah, but I haven't even told my best friend yet." Or Ray for that matter, that is sure to be fun. Mia claps her hands together excitedly. The look on her face is like she won some kind of prize.

"Come, time for lunch then. I am starving." Mia collects her handbag from a nearby chair, and stops to fluff up her hair one more time.

"Don't we have to pay?" I hate the thought of seeing Elena again, but it is not like we can dine and ditch.

"Nah, I have an account here," Mia says as she turns from the mirror and towards the front door.

"But what do I owe you?" I say as I follow Mia as she makes a beeline for the exit.

"We can work that out later, now come on before Elena comes out looking for a chat." As her and I walk out through the salon door, I take a deep breath of free air. The sick feeling dissipating the further I get from Mrs. Robinson.

As Mia and I drive through downtown Seattle, she gives me insightful critiques about all the restaurants we pass. It would be hard to forget she is a French trained chef, but I am pleased to find that she still enjoys simple food as well. We settle on good old fashioned American style burgers with milkshakes in an up market renovated diner. She almost kills me with laughter by telling me all about the hearts she broke in Paris.

"And then there was Gustave, who proposed to me on the Eiffel Tower after one night," Mia says as she dramatically twirls a French fry between her fingers. I giggle into my milkshake.

"I take it you said no?" She reminds me so much of Kate, except Mia has such an affable air about her.

"Oh Ana, I said yes. But then I met Pierre." She looks forlornly upwards and sighs with a satisfied smile on her face. "Paris is just magical."

"I will have to take your word for it." Shocked isn't a strong enough word to describe the look on Mia's face after I speak.

"You have never been?" I shake my head no. "Sacra bleu, you must." She has rested one French manicured hand over her chest in reverence.

"One day," I say as I imitate her forlorn look and sigh. It makes us both break out in laughter.

When Mia drops me back at Escala it is mid afternoon, and I can say I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I am glad she wanted to spend time with me, and had been missing American food while in Paris. The only dampener on my otherwise fun day was the nagging memory of Christian meeting with Elena AKA Mrs. Robinson. I buzz the intercom and wait for access to the building, Taylor appears within seconds.

"That was fast," I say with a friendly smile as I pass through the door he is holding open for me.

"I was looking out for you Miss Steele." Now he is leading me into the parking garage and to the back.

"Is Christian home yet?" I keep pace with Taylor, my converse shoes periodically making squeaking noises on the polished concrete.

"No, but I believe he isn't too far away." We have reached the elevator, and Taylor leans over to touch the up button.

As I find myself surrounded by a comfortable silence with Taylor, I wonder what the rules are for him. Am I allowed to carry on a conversion with him like I do with Gail? There is so much I would like to know about him, but I don't want to annoy him. He holds the elevator door, wanting for me to enter, before he gets on himself.

Suddenly it hits me that since Taylor is Christian's security, shouldn't he be with Christian and not here. Maybe Christian likes to be alone when he meets with Mrs. Robinson. I try to keep the question inside of me, I don't want to put Taylor in an uncomfortable position, but my self control is nowhere near as good as Christian's.

"How much do you know about Elena?" My voice sounds so small in the silent elevator.

"Enough," he says with a disgusted tone. It is the most emotion I have ever heard from him.

"So you have looked into her?" I lean closer to Taylor, who is standing in front of me, my interest suddenly peaked.

"It is my duty to assess all potential risk that may impact Mr. Grey personally and in business." Taylor's voice has returned to normal, noncommittal and respectful.

"Does he always listen?" He looks at me, his face is still impartial and passive but I can see the sarcasm behind his eyes.

"No, Ana. He does not." I beam; he called me Ana and not Miss Steele. "But I am glad he is changing things." When Taylor turns back to the front of the elevator, I know that the conversation is over.

Taylor holds the elevator open when we reach Christian's penthouse, and I nod as I pass by him. Gail is cleaning in the hallway, and offers to make me a coffee. I greedily accept, after only a little false protest. I carry the tall Latte glass with me into Christian's bedroom. An in home barista, now that is one luxury I could live with.

Reluctantly I start to gather all my odds and ends from around his room, stuffing them into my duffle bags. The clothes that I purchased with my mother in Savannah are still unworn, waiting for my first big week at SIP. I am trying to force the zip closed when Christian's arms encircle me from behind.

"I don't like to see you packing a bag, but I like the view of you bending over." He kisses me on the back of the neck. I wiggle my ass, and he spins me around.

As we make eye contact, we both know there is a lot unspoken between us since this morning. His eyes search mine, and I can feel him asking if we are okay. I reach up and kiss him momentary before I envelope him in a tight hug. He squeezes me in return, holding on for dear life.

"I didn't know if you would be here," he says with a whisper into my hair. I feel tears gather in my eyes stubbornly. He is still that lost little boy he once was, that lost little boy that Mrs. Robinson took advantage of.

"I said I would," I say as I kiss his chest. He pulls away from the hug and searches my face with his eyes.

"What have I told you about crying over me," he says as he wipes the tears from my cheeks. "I am not worth it."

"Oh, Christian, but you are. And so much more." His hands reach up and cup my face.

"I don't know what I would be if I lost you Anastasia." I feel Christian's fingers lace into my hair, his eyes burning in intensity.

"Just tell me if she was why we had to come back from Aspen, the business that needed attention?" I bring my own hand up and grip onto his shirt, dragging him closer to my body.

"In a way, but only because I was ensuring she wouldn't come between us." His cryptic response is enough, for now.

"I don't want you talking about me to her, ever again Christian." My voice is strong, determined, and his face responds instantly with a serious expression.

"Never have I, you are a hard limit for me with her." He grips my hair tightly, possessively. "Remember you are only mine, no one else's. She has no right to know anything about you." He has just said what I have been feeling, and suddenly I know it will all be okay somehow.

"Then how did she know my full name, even though Mia called me Ana?" My hands have begun to untie his tie, pulling it forcibly from around his neck.

"My mother told her," Christian says with a serious look in his eye. He has started to walk backwards, pulling me along with him and somehow navigating us back into the bedroom. "She was quite elated that I brought a woman to a family dinner."

The memory of dinner at the Grey's house comes back to me, including Christian's strange behavior at the mention of Elena. I wish I could remember the name he used to refer to her that night. Was it Mrs. Lincoln? Mia had brought up the salons then as hers, so all the pieces seem to connect. Grace must have told her I was there that night. I feel relief instantly.

Closing the distance between us I allow his mouth to claim mine, submitting to his powerful and intoxicating kiss. It is in the same moment he swings us around and we land on the bed. As he hovers above me, I want nothing more than for him to take me roughly. He hesitates though, his eyes still somber.

"About what Elena said," Christian's voice is low and ashamed.

"What did she say?" I know he must be referring to her assertion that I look like all the rest, but I want to hear him say it.

"She implied you are my submissive due to your physical attributes." Well done Mr. Grey. "I told you that there was still a lot you didn't know and I want to tell you it all."

"And I want to hear it Christian," I take in a deep breath. "But I feel like this is going to be a longer conversation than I can have right now." Plus I can feel his throbbing erection pressing into me. I want to forget about Mrs. Robinson and the fifteen that came before.

"So you aren't upset?" That is a loaded question if I ever did hear one.

"I told you I trust you, that I am yours." I trail my hands down his chest slowly, undoing the buttons as I go. "How could that possibly be true if I ran at the first hint of something that I didn't like?" Christian captures my lips when I stop talking, worshipping me with his mouth.

"You are a marvel Miss Steele," he says low and seductively in my ear. "So, what time do you have to be at your apartment?" His hands are running up my thighs slowly.

"I would like to spend some time with Kate before we start our internships tomorrow," I say more and more breathlessly as his hands move higher and higher. The real reason that I need to stay at my apartment tonight is that I need a decent night sleep, and I know I won't get that at Christian's place.

"What if your boss said you could come in late?" There is a glint in his eye when I look at him. I had almost forgotten that he now owns the company I will be interning for.

"Don't you mean my boss's boss's boss's boss?" I cock my head to the side, pouting innocently as my hands undo his belt buckle.

Christian leans forward and bites my bottom lip, effectively ending my pout. I moan loudly as the pain builds until he releases the pressure. I push his suit pants down, freeing his glorious ass which I cup with both hands. We run into trouble though when Christian begins to tug down my jeans, skinny jeans which do not want to yield. I pivot at the same time as him, the joint movement propelling us off the bed.

It doesn't even slow us down, but our passionate sounds are joined with laughter for a few moments. After my jeans are removed, my panties disappeared into Christian's pocket, and a condom adorned, Christian slams into me possessively. I bite down on his shoulder, matching him thrust for thrust. Both of us seem to be pouring a lot of unspoken emotion into this fucking session, because I realize that is what this particular encounter is; fucking.

"Remember Anastasia," Christian says with a deep growl as he lifts me slightly to bring a hard spank down on my ass. "You are mine."

"Oh Christian, again." I breath into his ear, biting his earlobe when he spanks me again. His thrusts quicken. "Harder, please." My words are drawn out, moaned from low in my throat.

Christian is sitting up now with his back resting against the bed, my body moving up and down on this cock. One of his hands grips my hair painfully, tugging my head backwards so his lips can attacked my neck. When three hard smacks hit my left cheek in quick secession I buck forward and all the muscles in my body tense painfully, then release in sweet ecstasy.

"Oh fuck me, Christian," I scream out. "Don't stop, fuck me harder." As I have an orgasm around him, and continue to ride him hard and fast, Christian moves his lips to my ear.

"As you wish," he whispers and suddenly he maneuvers himself so he reaches deeper still within me.

I think I say a few words, none of which even I know what they are. This man is a constant surprise, one that I am sure I am addicted to. With his thrusts deepening and quickening it isn't long before I climax again, bringing him with me this time. As we both lay on the floor, my body sprawled on top of his, our breathing is labored.

"I am glad that you trust me enough to tell me your past Christian," I say suddenly. Even though he hasn't disclosed anything yet, I know he would have if I hadn't stopped him.

"For the first time in my life I want someone to know me." His hands have tangled themselves into my hair. "But you are right, I should tell you when we have time to discuss, time to be together, and not when you have somewhere to be."

"And not because Mrs. Robinson was trying to make me jealous." I run my hand up his chest, drawing circles over where his heart is. He adoringly kisses the crown of my head.

"Nothing in this relationship will ever have anything to do with her." I shift my body, lift myself up, kissing him indulgently long and slow.

Christian drives me back to my apartment; the R8, he claims, really wanted to take me for another ride. I wonder if maybe I should nickname his penis R8, because he sure knows how to take me for a ride. We say a long goodbye in the car, our fevered kisses almost leading to us having sex again. Christian's desire to be the one who drives me is now painfully clear.

I wave from inside the security door, smiling as Christian revs the engine like always as he pulls away from the curb. Slowly I walk up the stairs, my hand pressed to my lips that still tingle from his attentions. It takes me awhile to locate my keys, as they were buried at the bottom on my bag. I jiggle them in the lock, excited yet sad to be home.

Kate's ordinarily beautiful skin is tanned to perfection, really suiting her sunny disposition. It isn't the first thing I notice when I enter the apartment though. No, that would be the clothes strewn across every visible surface. As I dump my messenger bag and one duffle bag, I left one at Christian's on his insistence, by the door I head further into the apartment.

I pick up a silk blouse from the kitchen counter and I spy an impressive envelope beneath it. It is address to Miss A. Steele, bearing a Portland stamp. I am examining it closely when Kate comes into the kitchen, flinging a blouse away behind her, wearing only a bra and a tight fitting skirt. Her greeting comes in the most Kate like way.

"There you are," she says as she pulls at the skirt. "Too slutty for my first day?"

"The skirt is borderline, but I say go for that top." Kate laughs heartily as she looks towards me. She suddenly stops, moving forward she stares intently at my face. "Okay, I went to a salon without you. Do you like my haircut?" My voice is unconvincingly nonchalant, and her eyes continue to scrutinize.

"Oh my fucking god, you had sex." She exclaims loudly, her hands grip both my arms.

"Would you keep in down," I say as I look around that apartment. Kate releases her hold on me and rubs her hands together.

"Don't worry, Ethan isn't here." She puts on the first shirt she sees. The red surprisingly looks great with the gray skirt already hugging her lower body. "How was your first time?" Suddenly I get shy,

"Perfect," I say in a whisper. "He was everything I knew he would be."

"So Christian Grey deflowers my best friend." I don't have to tell her it was Christian, although I wonder how much that NDA still applies. "Did he make you come?"

"Kate," I say with a embarrassed cry. I am not ashamed, but I still find discussing my relationship disrespectful.

"What, I just want to know if he knows what he is doing." She shrugs, like it is no big thing.

"Oh, he knows what he is doing," I say cheekily as I brush past Kate and head towards the living room.

"And you have been at his place this whole time?" I turn and shake my head.

"We were in Aspen." I wish we never had to leave. I could have done without the whole Mrs. Robinson of it all; my curiosity over what Christian wants to tell me is killing me. Something tells me that I need to wait to hear it though, the timing isn't right; especially not the day before I start my internship.

"Did you ski?" I shoot her with a stare and then roll my eyes. "Right, Ana doesn't do skiing." She wickedly grins. "But she does do Christian Grey." We both laugh for a good few minutes.

It takes us another forty minutes, and a delivered pizza, to pick out Kate's first day of internship outfit. She will look professional, yet approachable, in tailored black pants and a baby blue fitted button down. I already know I will be wearing the burgundy A line dress my mother brought for me, but I show Kate and we match shoes to our outfits. All the while Kate tells me about her vacation, and tries to pull more details out of me about Christian. It is about as girly as I have ever gotten, talking clothes and boys; at least there was pizza.

As I carry and deposit the pizza box in the kitchen, I pick up the envelope again. I wonder who in Portland would be sending me such fancy mail, as I spin the envelope in my hands. Kate is walking around the apartment picking up all the clothes she has left around. She looks over my shoulder at what I am holding as I go to tear it open.

"I already RSVP'ed for both of us." Kate says with a nod towards it.

"Cool, where are we going?" I say as I rip into it. In my hands is an invitation to Jose's first big photography exhibit. The one I said I would go to back when we were speaking, back before he made a move on me, and back before he called me a gold digger. Kate must have noticed my face fall.

"If you don't go it will be effectively ending your friendship. Which if that is what you want to do, I support you." Kate squeezes my shoulder compassionately before she walks away to carry her clothes back to her bedroom.

I stare at the invite. In the grand scheme of my life and the universe, it really isn't that long since Jose called Kate and me to invite us to this event. However never has my life changed in so many ways, changed so monumentally, in such a small amount of time. Since that night I have graduated university, been propositioned by a potential employer, scored an internship, started a relationship with Christian Grey, lost my virginity, and have had sex an uncountable number of times. Am I ready for another change, the permanent loss of my friendship with Jose?

* * *

Author's Note:

This week has really flown. Next thing you know and it will be Christmas!

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, but to be honest Anastasia and Christian are writing this story now. They keep taking me to where they want to go, hope you don't mind following their lead.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three - Your Christian

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three – Your Christian

I don't want to seem too eager, but I arrive at SIP early for my first day. It is odd driving myself again, clearly I have been spoilt by Christian and Taylor. When I pull into a spare parking spot at 07:45, I take a deep breath. The last time I was at SIP it didn't look dissimilar, dark and clearly devoid of most staff members. I exit Wanda, grabbing my messenger bag, and lock the doors carefully.

There is still a large amount of apprehension about this job within me. What if Jack Hyde was just the tip of the iceberg? I have my doubts that all of the company's bad employees were weeded out when Grey Enterprise Holdings bought them out. That in and of itself is a part of my apprehension. I have the upmost respect for Christian and his intentions towards his work, it would crush me if my working for one of his subsidiaries made him look unprofessional.

My musings carry me all the way from my car to the entrance of SIP. When I try the front door, which swings open readily, I see a middle aged man leaning over the reception desk. A pair of round glasses is perched precariously on the end of his nose; he doesn't notice me at first. Nervously I make my way over to the front desk, waiting for a few seconds. I must have made enough noise to be noticed, because I watch his eyes shift upwards and recognition claims his expression.

"Miss Steele?" His voice is familiar, his tone happy and hopeful.

"Mr. Harrington?" I smile kindly, excitedly, and with a quick nod.

"Wonderful," he says as he steps around the desk. I take his outstretched hand, shaking it heartedly. "Thank you so much for being available so quickly, there are a lot of positions I am still trying to fill."

I follow as he turns and heads down a corridor into the offices past reception. He leads me into the same room I had my interview in, but I don't feel the same uncomfortable air. I am given an access pass to the building, computer login details, and I fill in my personal information. I hesitate when filling out my in case of emergency, something inside me wants to put Christian down. I don't, instead putting Kate like always.

"That should get you all set. Now since the restructuring of SIP, we are short staffed," Mr. Harrington says as he looks through my paperwork. "However, there are a few people to show you the ropes." He is now smiling warmly at me again. "Any questions before we get you underway?"

"Just point me to my work station, I am good to go." This makes his smile widen, clearly impressed by my enthusiasm.

As first days go, mine is pretty great. As Mr. Harrington said, we are terribly understaffed due to the recent restructuring. I love how companies do that, say restructuring not massive firings. The day is busy with learning their best practices, and meeting the other staff members. I can tell immediately that I will be given responsibilities outside the norm for an intern, but that pleases me. I am eager to learn, eager to progress.

By the time the offices are at closing, I am exhausted. Mr. Harrington personally comes out to congratulate me on a great first day, and promises that more new additions to the team will be found soon. Kate's first day went just as well as mine, as she is on the hunt to out scoop her dad. That is what she tells me when I arrive home that evening anyway. There is a glint in her eye, a wild look of excitement.

"It is a test," she says excitedly while pulling a shitload of paper from her bag. Her hair is in a messy bun, she looks tired but satisfied. "They said that each of us new interns can work on a story this first week, and the best scoop will be published next week."

"Wow, Kate. A byline in your first week." I am pulling the money from my wallet to pay for the dinner I called and ordered before I drove home; Kate and mine's standard celebratory pizza dinner.

"It will be killer, because we still have our actual work to do. This is just a side thing to present besides all the background research and coffee." She is trying to sound annoyed, but I know she loved her first day.

"So, you thought you would try and out scoop one of the most accomplished journalists in D.C. for your first story then?" Sounds like my best friend alright.

"What can I say Ana, go big or go home." She shrugs, with a cheeky grin on her face. I hope she gets the article published; it would crush her confidence to lose. "And I know he got a lead on something big while we were away."

The doorbell rings, and I go to answer it expecting our takeout. Instead there is a delivery man of a different kind standing on our doorstep. Two dozen long stem white roses, arranged beautifully in a simple clear glass vase, greet me. It is a surprise, and I am momentarily lost for words.

"Miss Steele?" says the cheery voice behind the flowers.

"Yes," I say in reply before he hands over the vase. Kate has appeared beside me, and she signs for me when the delivery man thrusts out a clipboard from under his arm. She also shuts the door quietly as we step back.

"Wow, Ana. They are stunning." Kate and I are both leaning over them where I have set them down on the dining table, taking a deep smell of the fragrance emitting from the bouquet. "You know historically white roses mean true love."

"I thought that was red roses," I say as I stroke one of the petals.

"For valentine's one year at WSU, I did an article for the student paper about what your flower choice really says." I vaguely remember that, but surely Christian wouldn't know the complex history of flower meanings. Then again, this is Christian Fucking Grey we are talking about here. "There is a card," Kate adds as she points to the small white envelope tucked between two flowers.

I reach out slowly, tracing the 'Anastasia' written on the front of the envelope. The poised, beautiful, handwriting can only be Christian's. My heart jumps as I pull the card from inside, it reads 'My Anastasia, Congratulations on your first day at work. I cannot wait to celebrate with you. Your Christian.' I feel the smile spread across my face. Kate pulls the card quickly from my hand.

"Does that really say 'Your Christian'?" She is staring at me. I nod, taking the card back from her and holding it to my chest.

"Will you excuse me?" Kate knowingly smiles at me.

"Sure, I will call out when dinner gets here." She reaches out and flips my hair affectionately.

"Thanks, money is on the table." I surprise her by leaning forward and hugging her tightly before turning to disappear into my bedroom. Once my laptop is on, I email Christian. He replies instantly.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Pure as a White Rose

Thank you for the beautiful flowers, Kate is busy overanalyzing their meaning.

xo Ana

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Great Expectations

Anastasia,

You can tell her they mean new beginnings, a symbol of another first in your life.

I hope your first day was everything you had expected. I long to be there with you now, had hoped to surprise you. Alas GEH is a jealous lady, and demands my attention.

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O. Missing In Action, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: MIA C.E.O Found At Desk Running the Company

To be fair, GEH got here first. Miss you anyways.

xo Ana

* * *

That first day turned into my first week. I wasn't dodging Christian. Not on purpose. Our schedules just weren't lining up. On Wednesday Kate talked me into joining her at Planned Parenthood during our lunch break, where she and the nurse proceeded to scare the shit out of me with STD and STI statistics. The doctor and I agreed that since I was in a committed, go Ana, relationship that the shot would work for me.

After a quick urine test for pregnancy, yikes, the doctor gave me my first shot. She explained, ad nauseam, about how long it would take for the shot to be effective for birth control and the side effects. I was also informed, reminded, and reminded again at reception that I would need another shot every twelve weeks. Since I got mine at the same time as Kate it shouldn't be too hard to remember, guaranteed reminder with a micromanager like her. Due to time constraints we split a sandwich for lunch in the car back to my work.

All through the week Mr. Harrington kept interviewing potential candidates, some for the open editor position, more for additional assistants and interns. I struck up a conversation with a young woman, Hannah, in the lobby Thursday morning. There is potential in her, so I hope Mr. Harrington sees his way to hiring her. I could use a friend at the office, someone who is as new as I am.

It was going to happen sooner or later, I knew that. Wanda, my beloved vintage Beetle, finally drove her last mile. She gave up the ghost Thursday afternoon, when the engine refused to turnover. Seattle, for once, was kind and didn't rain down on my parade as I tried in vain to fiddle with shit under the hood.

Paying for the tow truck wasn't fun. The mechanic was even less fun. He spent less than ten minutes under the hood before he came over to me shaking his head. Basically the car was going to cost me more to fix then it is currently worth. The joys of vintage cars, or scrap mental as he referred to it.

We discussed what my options were for the car, and he agreed to chase a potential buyer. Apparently you never know who might what to buy a classic car or a classic piece of shit; again the piece of shit comment was the mechanic's. At least he gave me a lift home after trash talking my beloved first car.

When I get home, deflated and minus one car, the apartment is empty. With no Kate or no Ethan to lament my fallen car with, I power on my laptop and contact the one person I always want to talk to. I feel like this particular person will be elated by the news. His opinion of Wanda was even lower than the mechanic's.

* * *

From: A. Steele

To: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

Subject: Wanda in the Sky with Diamonds

You will be happy to know that my car, the explosion risk, has broken down permanently. Shall I watch for fireworks over your way?

xo Ana

* * *

I start cooking dinner, as it is getting late. Kate must be out hunting down a lead, I hope anyway. With no clue where Ethan is, haven't seen much of him all week, I still make enough food for the three of us. All the while I keep an eye on my laptop, waiting for a reply from Christian. I watch as the email is refreshing, his response loading before my eyes.

* * *

From: Mr. Grey C.E.O.

To: A. Steele

Subject: Keys in hand

Can I give you a ride?

* * *

Mr. Christian Grey

C.E.O., Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

* * *

I can practically hear the humor in his voice as I read the email. It is crazy how much I miss him, unbelievable it has been four days since we saw each other. I am about to reply after washing my hands clean of food when my phone starts ringing. Quickly drying my hands, I catch the call before it goes to voicemail.

"I am serious," Christian says when I answer. Oh how I have missed his beautiful voice.

"I'll bet," I say with a purr. The sound of him shifting on the other end of the line is clear.

"How are you getting to and from work tomorrow?" He might not be my dominant, but his protective tone still sends shivers of desire through my body.

"Well, Kate, Ethan, and I are going to Portland tomorrow night." I pause, do I tell him why? Of course you do, silly girl. "Jose's photography exhibit is opening tomorrow night, and they will pick me up straight from work." He doesn't say anything, so I keep on talking. "Depending on how early Kate leaves tomorrow, either she will give me a lift or I will get the bus."

"First time a woman has chosen the bus over me," and just like that he is back. I let out a sigh of relief. Playful Christian just might be my favorite Christian.

"I've missed you Christian." I make my way into the living room, folding myself onto the lounge. Pulling a pillow onto my lap, I hug it to my chest.

"It won't always be this way," he says quietly, soothingly. I think I can hear the longing in his voice also.

"I don't like not seeing you all week." Christian laughs lightly through the phone. "What, did I say something funny?"

"No, just slightly ironic." The more I know Christian, the more of a complex puzzle he seems to become. "Please tell me you don't have plans on Saturday?"

"I was hoping only you." I pause, fidgeting pronouncedly with the throw pillow on my lap. "I think it is time we got everything out in the air so to speak."

"And Sunday?" His tone picks up in pitch, hopeful and playful at the same time.

"Still hoping only you, just without the talking." My voice is, hopefully anyway, sultry. I can hear his low groan; can imagine the expression on his handsome face.

"Oh Miss Steele, my palms are twitching but in a good way." Subconsciously I bite my lower lip.

"Are they?" My voice is breathy, full of desire. "Sir."

"I cannot wait to get my hands on you," he says with a tone of pure unfiltered passion. "Just imagine all the things I am going to do to your body." I purr, my free hand not holding my cell starts to run up my thighs. "But don't touch yourself."

"But you feel so good Christian," my voice says in a whining tone, yet my hand instantly stops its movement. Am I really sure he isn't my dominant?

"Exactly Anastasia and your orgasms are mine." His words make me moan, his voice so commanding. What I wouldn't give for him to be here right now.

"How would you even know?" My thighs have pressed themselves together involuntarily. The friction is glorious.

"Trust me, I will know." He pauses on the other end of the line, I can hear breathing. "Do you want to test me?"

"No Sir," I say as I arch my back and lean back on the lounge. There is most certainly a pout on my face.

"Just imagine it," he whispers into my ear through the phone. I cannot control my breathing as it becomes shallow, cannot control my overactive imagination as I do picture all the things he could be doing to me right now.

"I will," I sigh into the phone.

"Laters, Baby." Christian ends the call without ceremony. The man really knows how to build suspense. There is a good chance I will burst into flames when I see him next. Bastard is going to leave me aroused and horny until Saturday, right when he knows we have to talk. He is using sex as a weapon, and I will be damned because it is totally working.

For the first time that week, work drags on Friday. It is still plenty busy, but my mind cannot stay off tomorrow. I can still see Christian's nervous face when he wanted to explain what Mrs. Robinson had said. Unable to even begin to imagine what new secret Christian has, I try to focus on a more impending problem. Jose and his friendship is the first thing I have to handle in the way of relationships this weekend.

A few people at work have commented that I look extra dressed up today, which is true. Some even seemed interested when I explain I am going to Portland for a photography exhibition. Apparently I am cool and interesting, who knew? Maybe SIP is the place for me after all, or at least could become the place.

At 17:45 I am standing out the front of SIP when Ethan pulls up in Kate's car. The passenger seat is empty, but I can see Kate in the back with a notebook in hand. I jump into the front and raise an eyebrow at Ethan, who is quick to roll his eyes.

"Woodward here thinks she is onto the next Watergate," Ethan says jokingly and gestures to Kate behind him as I pull the door shut.

"Where's Bernstein?" I say while buckling in my seatbelt, Ethan already pulling away from the curb.

"Very funny you two," Kate's sarcastic reply sounds distracted. "It isn't Watergate, but it could affect a lot of people."

"This the big scoop?" I say with renew interest, as she hasn't given me any clues yet what this big story is about. That is unusual, because she almost always tells me what she is working on.

"I have a source, I just need to verify." Kate doesn't even look up from the page she is reading, reporter mode is turned up to the max.

The drive to Portland is longer than I remember, but Ethan and I keep each other entertained. After a while Kate doesn't even seem to notice our teasing. She really must be onto something, but I don't think she has proof quite yet. Not if she only has the one source. With the intensity she is gunning to beat her father's paper to the story, it must be more than good enough to win her the competition between interns.

I check the invitation three times when we arrive, it doesn't really look much like a gallery. When the three of us walk into the building however I realize we are in a converted warehouse, with brick walls, dark wood floors, and white ceilings. They have even left the pipe work exposed, giving the whole space a purposeful and airy modern feel. Despite our current fallout, I feel myself smile momentarily. Jose has realized his dream; there are even several people wandering across the gallery floor, all pointing and admiring Jose's work.

"Good Evening," says a professionally dressed young woman, her short black hair cut into an uneven bob. She gestures around the gallery elegantly. "Welcome to Jose Rodriguez's show. Refreshments can be found floating through the gallery, enjoy." She nods, and we walk forward into the fray.

Jose's photos are lovely, but I am worried about seeing him. I haven't talked, really talked, to him since he helped Kate and I move. As I stare at a particularly ethereal landscape, I try to remember why it looks so familiar. Over the years I have helped Jose with his shoots a couple of times, carrying his equipment in hard to reach places. That must be it, I think to myself just before I see Jose walk towards me.

"Ana, you came." He stands a good distance away from me. Looking very chic, he is simply wearing a black button down and fashionable dark wash jeans. "This means a lot. Especially," he says but tapers off. Jose looks down into the glass of wine he is holding.

"Since we aren't talking right now?" I finish for him. "Tell me it was all a mistake; tell me you really are my friend."

I am staring at him, pleading to the Jose I thought I knew. When he looks up at me, I can tell he wants to say something. I feel a hand on the small of my back, and Kate's perfume hits my nose. It is uncharacteristic of her to be so protective of me around Jose, but I can sense her stiff stance next to me.

"I think you should come and have a look at these," Kate says as her eyes lock onto Jose.

"I should explain first," Jose says breathlessly, I have never heard him so desperate.

"Shouldn't your work be able to explain for you?" Kate's voice is stone cold, a warning. Ethan has appeared; he looks sympathetically at Jose and places a hand on his shoulder.

"You should've just told her how you felt man," Ethan says unhappily as I let Kate lead me away.

I gasp when I see what they are talking about, picture after picture after picture of me. These candid photos feel invasive, private moments made large and public. A few people surrounding me smile and wave. Suddenly I feel dizzy, my anger reaching laser focus when Jose walks over with Ethan. Kate squeezes my shoulder in comfort and reassurance.

"How could you do this, without my permission?" Tears sting at the back of my eyes as I talk, but I will not let them fall.

"I tried," Jose says in a whisper. I watch as both his and Ethan's eyes shift focus to something that I cannot see. "Just fucking perfect," Jose's voice is bitter when he speaks this time. His gaze is looking directly behind me. I turn, just in time to see Christian appearing from around the corner.

* * *

Author's Note:

Sorry about missing a week again, but this chapter has been a bit of an issue. Ended up splitting it into two chapters, so this one is kind of light on action.

Work has been busy, home has been crazy; it has been tough to find time for writing. However, I am determined to continue because I am having so much fun with writing Christian and Anastasia's story.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four - Beautiful Photos

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four - Beautiful Photographs

My first instinct is to close the distance between us and kiss Christian here in front of all these people. I haven't seen him, touched him, since Sunday night. However, I am too upset. He stands next to me, my other side still guarded by Kate. I relax when his hand rests gently on the small of my back. I think I could face anything when he is by my side.

"How hard did you really try?" My voice is still weak, but getting stronger. Christian's pressure on my back increases. Jose is looking between Christian and I, his face growing redder by the second.

"Not hard enough, obviously," Jose says with a resigned shake of the head. "Look Ana, I was going to explain their meaning to you and I thought," Jose tapers off as he makes eye contact with Christian.

"What did you think Mr. Rodriguez?" Christian's voice is calm, collected. I can hear something primal however in his words. I move closer to Christian instinctively, his arm encircling my waist fully.

"Whatever man, I don't see what it has to do with you." The grip of Christian's on me becomes almost punishingly hard while Jose is speaking. I lace our fingers together slowly, reassuring myself just as much as him.

"If it upsets my girlfriend it has a great deal to do with me." Girlfriend. The word sounds so good coming from those beautiful lips. The first time in my life I am referred to as a Girlfriend and it is when my sexy ass man is defending my honor.

"How long have you know each other, five minutes. We have been friends for four years, our connection runs deeper than whatever sugar daddy bullshit is going on here." Jose's voice is cold, defensive. I feel Christian step forward, so I intercede and strengthen my grip on him.

"Our connection doesn't run anywhere anymore Jose. Any friend of mine for three seconds would know I would never want publicity like this, ever." With Christian's arm wrapped around me, Kate's presence beside me, and Ethan's protective gaze to support me, my voice takes on a powerful quality. Jose looks at Christian and shakes his head in disgust when I stop speaking.

"Should have know you would be spreading your legs for this walking credit card already," Jose says with an uncharacteristic hatred in his tone. Without thinking I step forward, Christian's grip falling away, and slap Jose clear across the face.

"Fuck you, Jose." I have never heard such venom in my own voice before, and I cannot say I really care for it. "I have $140 dollars to my name, a job, a broken down piece of shit car, and more student loan debt than you can poke a stick at." The tears don't fall, but they build up in the corners of my eyes. "I am the same girl I have always been."

"If you know what is good for you Jose, I would take these photos down now." Kate has spoken for the first time since Christian appeared. I look across to her and see the hurt in her eyes too. Jose is her friend too after all, and it is never a good thing to find out your friends aren't who you always thought they were.

"They are the best photos in the exhibit." Jose whines and I find myself hating to be in his presence.

"Not anymore," Ethan says with a sad shake of his head.

"Not ever again," Christian says with a fixed stare at Jose. His look is so icy it could stop a volcano. In resignation Jose throws his hands in the air before he turns away, walking towards the lady who greeted us.

Ethan flags down a passing waiter, handing wine to Kate, Christian, myself and himself. The four of us stand for a few minutes silently and I can tell Ethan is sizing up Christian. Kate's eyes are instead transfixed on the photographs of me. She steps towards them, and the three of us watch her bend over closer to the frames.

"You have to admit, they are beautiful photographs," Kate says before taking a sip of her wine.

"Only because the subject is beautiful." Christian says without a hint of irony. I blush, he pulls me closer and back under his arm.

"Oh, please. I am already embarrassed enough," I say as I bury my face into the crook of Christian's neck.

"He is not wrong though," Kate says as she steps back next to our group. "The camera can only capture what is there."

"Everything else of Jose's are landscapes, you are the only person Ana." Ethan says quietly, pensively. "There is a deeper meaning to why he used these photos."

"He is in love with her, obviously." Christian voice is practically arctic, dangerous. I look up at his face and touch my hand to his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

"Christian is right again," Kate whispers as Jose approaches us once more.

"I went to the curator to ask that they be removed, but she told me they have all been purchased including all copies and my negatives," Jose says rapidly with thankfully a broken expression on his face. He has the decency to feel like shit about it.

"Who the fuck would want photos of me?" Even as I say, even without his arm tightening around my body as Jose looks at me, I realize it is of course Christian.

"They are going to be removed when the opening is finished tonight and packaged up, but I will find the buyer and tell them it is off. I promise that I never intended to sell them." Jose is holding his hands out towards me as he speaks, in a universe sign of apology.

"That won't be necessary," I say, with Kate and Ethan looking on in shock. "But I don't think we can be friends after this, you have proven again you don't know me at all."

"It was going to be my way of telling you that I love you Ana, I want to be with you." Jose looks sheepishly from Ethan to Kate, then after a pause at Christian. He swallows audibly and then looks into my eyes. "I never thought someone like Christian Grey would be my competition." It sounds like Jose thinks a billionaire is too good for lonely little Ana Steele.

"There is no competition, I am not a prize." As I speak a tear finally falls from the corner of my eye. "I did love you Jose, and I will not apologize that it wasn't in the way you wanted."

"I am so sorry Anastasia," Jose says and steps forward to get closer to me. Christian's lightening fast reflexes kick in too quickly though, sweeping me protectively behind him.

"That is close enough." I can feel the heat radiating off Christian's body as he speaks. If we don't leave soon I know something disastrous is going to happen. Jose and I make eye contact over Christian's broad shoulders.

"I really am sorry," Jose says in a voice that I at last recognize. "Forgive me?" I nod, because I do I realize. I can forgive him, and move past having him as a friend. I can forgive him because he no longer means anything to me.

"Goodbye." It is the finality of the word, but I feel released from any and all obligations to Jose at its utterance.

I turn from all of them, and disappear out of the front doors. It doesn't take long for Christian, Kate, and Ethan to appear beside me. Kate pulls me into a hug, Christian and Ethan standing like soldiers either side of us. I let out a massive sigh, partly in sadness and partly in relief.

"Why didn't you let him squash the sale?" Ethan blurts out suddenly. I pull back from Kate and smile.

"I think they are going to a good home," I say as I walk over to Christian and hug him. I can see Kate nodding approvingly out of the corner of my eye.

"The negatives were a nice touch," Kate says smiling, nodding at Christian slyly. I watch a look of realization hit Ethan. It is nice that he seems to forget who Christian is. I like that not everyone in the world sees him just as an ATM.

"I don't like the idea of him making money out of that kind of betrayal though," Ethan says with a sigh as he scratches the back of his neck.

"He just lost Anastasia; money doesn't mean anything to him anymore." Christian pulls me closer to him, kissing the top of my head. "Besides I will sleep better at night being in possession of his negatives, knowing he can never look at her face again; if he makes some money out of that so be it."

I pivot in his arms, stand on my tiptoes and capture his lips forcefully. As I bury my hands in his hair, I can feel his hands travel my body. When he cups my ass I don't care that Kate and Ethan are standing here on the sidewalk with us, I would happily let him take me here in the street. Christian however isn't an exhibitionist along with his kinky fuckery it seems, as he stops us before we stray too far from PG-13. From somewhere behind us I hear the automatic unlock of Kate's car.

"Do you need a lift man?" Ethan says as he opens the driver's door on Kate's car, after clearing his throat rather loudly. I catch Kate expression as she fans her face, clearly impressed by Christian's and my display.

"I was actually going to see if Anastasia wanted to come with me?" Christian hasn't let go of my hand, squeezing me tighter as he talks. He leans into my ear to whisper "and continue this jump start on the weekend," so that only I can hear.

"Can you two manage on your own?" I say with a smile as I rest my head on Christian's chest. Ethan just laughs and gets into the car, Kate returns my smile.

"See you later then," she says as she walks towards me. Her and Christian make eye contact, and she nods before looking to me. "And don't let Jose ruin your weekend." It is like nothing bad has happened tonight already anyway, because I am safe in Christian's arms.

Briefly breaking away from Christian, I hug Kate in goodbye before she gets into the car beside Ethan. I wave heartily as they drive away, Christian even gives them a little wave as Ethan toots the horn. Looking quickly around I don't see the R8 or the Escalade. I upturn my head and look into Christian's eyes. He seems angry, or at the very least annoyed. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss the end of his nose.

"Thanks for coming," I say with a voice low and full of appreciation. I don't need to ask how he knew about where the event was, he is Christian Fucking Grey after all.

"I couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you, but I am infinitely glad I decided to come." The annoyed expression drops away from his face, and I hope that he forgets about the whole Jose incident as quickly as I have. How can I possibility give a shit about it when I have this man at my side?

"I should have asked you to come, I just didn't think it would be something you would want to do." If I am being honest I didn't know what to expect from tonight, and I didn't want Christian to be subjected to Jose's jealousy.

"Anything with you is something that I want to do." He says with a tender kiss to the crown of my head.

"So how are we getting home?" Christian's eyes sparkle with an unknown emotion as I say home.

"It is a surprise." I frown. "Much better than the salon surprise, I promise."

Suddenly he takes my hand and we begin to walk. Our pace is not too fast or too slow, but just perfect for two lovers on the way to be together. We enter a building a couple of blocks away and he spirits me into the elevator. I look up at him through my eyelashes, and I hear him chuckle.

"There aren't enough floors Anastasia," he says with a lustful smile.

"There will never be enough floors Christian," I say as I bite my lip with purpose.

When the doors open, and we pry our hands from each other, we exit onto what is clearly the roof. I gasp, as there is a helicopter with 'Grey Enterprises Holdings' emblazoned on the side. There is a man waiting beside it and I stand at Christian's side as the two men shake hands.

"Here's your flight plan, Mr. Grey. All external check are done. It is clear for takeoff." The man, who I assumed was the pilot, hands Christian some papers.

"Thank you Joe," Christian says with a jovial smile. "Time to get this bird in the air." A cheerful Christian, now that is a new one. "Like Charlie Tango?" Christian says directing his attention to me when Joe walks away.

"I have never been in a helicopter before," I whisper in awe. Should I be afraid? It is just like a plane right?

"You'll love it." Christian is still keeping a hold on me as we head over to the helicopter, Charlie Tango rather, and directs me to one of the seats at the very front. It is surprisingly large inside but I don't really know too much about helicopters. I don't have much time to gander around either as Christian hops in beside me.

"You sure about me sitting at the front?" I say questioningly, and he simply nods his head.

"Do not touch anything." His words are stern, clearly a command. I would be too afraid to touch anything anyway. It looks like an alien ship to me. A sudden wave of nerves hits me as he crouches beside me, pulling on the harness I hadn't even noticed. Once he has it clipped around me he tightens it as far as it will allow, making me gasp. "No escaping now," he says as he releases the harness.

"I think I missed that chance a while ago." He tugs on the harness, tightening it further momentarily which makes me strangely moan in arousal. There is a secret smirk on his face.

Before he straps himself in, he leans over and picks up two sets of headphone looking things. He places a set over his ears and then gentle reaches over and places a set onto me. His fingers caress my face as he does, his watchful eye making sure they are sitting right on my head. He looks into my eyes, his gaze scanning me with concern.

"Are you all good Anastasia?" Christian says but his voice is muffled. It takes me a moment to realize it is coming through the headphones. I nod. "Good, I am just going to run through all the preflight checks."

With that he hops back out of Charlie Tango and I watch in fascination as he does a walk around of the helicopter. Once he is satisfied, he gets back into the seat beside me and buckles himself in. As his quick hands move about on the dials and levers, I notice the aircraft spring to life. Holy fuck, is he the pilot?

"Do you know what you are doing?" I say. I know I feel safe with Christian, but I had no idea he could fly helicopters.

"I've been a fully qualified pilot for four years now; you are perfectly safe with me Anastasia." He turns and smiles at me, my stomach summersaults. "At least when we are flying."

He turns back to the controls and I hear his voice in my ear again. I tune it out when I realize he is getting clearance to takeoff. Instead I watch him. It is incredibly sexy to watch him in complete control of the situation. He looks pensive, in command. The turn on is irresistible. I strain against the harness, reveling in the restraints and the dominate voice beside me.

"Roger tower, Charlie Tango set. Over and out." Christian's voice is still talking but I only register his next words because he turns to me as he says them. "Here we go." With a wink he is looking back at the gauges.

The helicopter rises smoothly; I watch the ground slowly drop away from below us. My stomach drops, this time from the helicopter and not the man controlling it. I have been in many airplanes before but never have I ever been in a helicopter before. It is a completely different sensation to a plane. Despite the nausea, a smile sweeps across my face.

From where we are in the cockpit, the view is absolute mesmerizing. The bright lights of Portland get smaller and smaller until I can only make out the outline. I turn towards Christian, who is concentrating on something in front of him on the dash. Suddenly he turns and makes eye contact with me.

"Still travelling okay over there Steele?" His voice hits my ears. Just Steele, he is in dude mode and I love it.

"How do you even know where we are going?" I gesture to the pitch black night sky around us.

"Impressed?" He turns back to the controls, doing from what I can tell a quick check.

"Beyond," I say. He grins without turning back towards me. "Do you always impress women this way?" The grin disappears as quickly as it had appeared.

"No Anastasia." His voice is unreadable, closed off from me. "The only women that have been in this helicopter are family and business associates." He turns slightly in his seat and looks me dead in the face. "This is a first for me as well."

Once he turns back in his seat, I look down. I don't know if it is because we are so high in the air but I feel conflicted. Do I really believe that, that I am the first woman he wants to impress in this way? Surely a past submissive or two went somewhere with him. Abruptly I feel guilty. Why should I begrudge him his past just because I don't really have one? He has never overtly lied to me before either, so instead I focus on the here and now.

Without trying to make it to obvious I study his outline. There is only the softest of lights in the helicopter; his face is only illuminated by the lights on the instrument panel. I notice with interest that he clearly hasn't shaved today. I cannot believe I didn't notice when I was kissing him earlier. Stubble is starting to form down his perfect jaw line. I idly wonder to myself what it would feel like to run my tongue along said jaw line. I shiver involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" Christian says distractedly. He is flipping another dial.

"Maybe a little." I don't want to tell him that the shiver was most definitely not from the cold.

"Don't worry, we are less than an hour away." No wonder he has commandeered Charlie Tango for the evening. That is a fantastically fast trip to Seattle. "The wind is in our favor tonight."

My entire body is suddenly covered in goose bumps, which are also not from the cold. There is perhaps less than an hour before Christian tells me this new big bad revelation. I will be totally honest; I have been trying not to think about it. The chance I would build it up in my head is one hundred percent, especially since his last big reveal was so mind bending.

Now that it is so close I cannot help but let it consume me. The even more dangerous thoughts are the thoughts about what I consider a deal breaker. Right now I cannot think of anything that he could tell me that would make me want him less. Except maybe that he kills and eats people. Please let him not kill and eat people, because he has told me more than once he would love nothing more than devour me whole. I trust him innately for whatever reason, he is mine and I am his.

"You okay Anastasia?" I jump when Christian speaks.

"Yes." My response is curt, embarrassed. I was so caught up in myself, which I have a tendency to do, I hadn't noticed him looking at me. He points ahead.

"See that there?" I nod as I look at the glow beyond us. "That is Seattle."

"Charlie Tango, come in, over," a voice interrupts us. From what I can gather as Christian exchanges words is that it is air traffic control. I guess we must be very close to Seattle now. Once I hear them both say "Over and out," I speak.

"You obviously enjoy this," I say. I know that Christian is in his element during board meetings and in the business world. However this is a whole entirely different side of him. I would almost say carefree, except flying must take a lot of care and attention.

"What is that Anastasia?" He raises an adorable eyebrow as he flicks another switch.

"Flying." I roll my eyes; thankfully he is still fully attuned to the dials and doesn't see my endeared expression.

"It requires concentration and control, what is not to enjoy?" He smirks at me briefly. "Although, soaring is my real passion."

"Soaring?" This man has hobbies I haven't even heard of.

"You might call it gliding, unpowered flight." Hobbies that sound dangerous. "We will be there in a few minutes."

I look back ahead, tearing my gaze from Christian's outline. Without me noticing, the Seattle glow has grown much larger and sitting just ahead. We are clearly at the outskirts now and the view is breathtaking. I can feel the pure adrenaline spike into my system. Somehow I feel like I have never been this high.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Christian says. I don't even feign a response.

"I am awed," I say once I can. "Truly awed."

We are now among Seattle's skyline, part of the landscape of the sky. I can hear Christian conserving with air traffic control again as he begins to hover near 'Escala'; the name plate emblazoned on the side looks bigger from up here. As we get closer I see the helipad on the top and I know that we are almost home.

Christian is silent as we make our decent. I find myself gripping the edge of the seat, taking long deep breathes. As the helipad gets nearer, bigger, my grip tightens. I shut my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. Suddenly the helicopter slows and I sense the smooth set down. My eyes spring open when I feel Christian removing my headgear.

"Anastasia?" His eyes look concerned. I can hear the rotors slowing above us. "Are you okay?" His hand is touching my face gently. I give him a small smile.

"Fine, just a little scared. But you kept me safe." Suddenly he looks strained, his jaw visibly clenches. Somehow, despite his height, he gracefully exits the helicopter and extends a hand out for me to grab onto. Once I am safely standing next to him, he kisses me soundly on the mouth.

"I hope you always see me as you do now," he says sadly as we break apart. At least that is what I think he says, as it is loud here on the roof.

I am keenly aware of the fact we are standing at least thirty stories high in an unenclosed space. The wind is making me more nervous than I would like to admit. It is astonishingly strong this high up, so strong it is starting to make my eyes water. Christian wraps me protectively under his arm, pulling me tightly against him.

Not bothering to shout above the wind, I follow him as he begins to move towards the structure across the roof. I note the small keypad, watching as Christian punches a number into it. Perhaps the roof is Grey exclusive I think, as the doors open to reveal an elevator. The warmth as we step inside is very welcome. Christian releases me to step forward, tapping in another code which sets us moving in descent as he steps back beside me.

"I am guessing this elevator ride isn't going to be long enough either?" I whisper innocently before he turns and pins me to the wall.

* * *

Author's Note:

I am sorry to say this is the last chapter of the year! I am going on holidays and won't be able to post next week! So this is Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year's! Not happy about leaving this story at this point for so long of a duration, but it cannot be helped. My apologies!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five - 'The Grace'

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five – 'The Grace'

Despite Christian's penthouse only being barely an elevator ride below the roof, he already has me moaning as the doors open up into his apartment. Without words I take his cue as he grabs my waist, hoisting me up so I can wrap my legs around him. His erection elicits another moan from deep in my body as it makes contact with my heated core. The fevered kisses between us are non-stop.

I don't know how Christian is navigating us through the entryway, but suddenly he places me on the back edge of the lounge so I am still connected to his upright body. I squeeze my legs tighter around him, trying to pull him closer still. He breaks away, watching me with cheeky eyes. However his hands continue to stroke along my thighs slowly, causing me to bite my lip not innocently.

"Eager as ever Miss Steele," Christian's speech is labored as he talks, clearly our activities taking effect on his control. "Yet, I believe we have some things to discuss."

"It isn't Saturday yet Mr. Grey." I snake my hands up his chest, and once they reach his shoulders I pull him towards me.

"I was hoping you would say that," Christian says just as I finally run my tongue along his gloriously stubble covered jaw line. I nip at his ear when I reach it, arching my body at the sound he makes at my efforts.

"Don't you think we are wearing far too much?" I have taken a hold of his tie, pulling on it with force.

"Why don't I help you with that?" I instantly hear a rip, my dress the newest victim of our combined libidos. "I want to fuck you, hard." With that as my prompt I tug at his shirt, and buttons fly off as I tear it from his body.

"Please, right here, Sir." Christian steps back, pulling me from the lounge. My hands attack his belt, his somehow removing my bra and destroying my panties. Once all our clothing is scattered around us, predominately ruined, Christian spins me around and bends me over the lounge to spank me hard.

"Don't move Anastasia," he says as he presses himself against me, taking a firm grip of my hair. The unmistakable sound of a condom wrapper being torn open hits my ears. Using his foot, Christian spreads my legs further open.

"Please Christian," I hear myself beg as he positions himself. I squirm as he tugs on my hair, bringing my hands up to grip the lounge.

"Do I need to tie your hands up Anastasia?" A spark of excitement runs through my body. Before I know it, before an image of the Red Room flashes in my mind, I am nodding.

"I think you might have to Sir." His strangled, and sexy as hell, groan hits my ears. To confirm my very serious consent, I shift my hands behind my back and link them.

He seems to hesitate behind me, until I wiggle my ass which prompts him to spank me again. I feel his presence move, bend to reach for something. From the corner of my eye I can see him retrieve his tie from the ground. As he returns to the standing position behind me, I feel him gently wrap the tie around my wrists, feel the pressure build as he binds me. I gasp as he tightens the knot ever so slightly.

"Fuck, you are a goddess." Even though my hands are tied behind my back, and I am bent over Christian's lounge, I feel powerful enough to be a goddess. Christian retakes his tight grip on my hair, repositioning himself and poised to enter me. "Fucking beautiful," he says with a completely adoring voice, right before he slams into me.

The pace he sets is punishing, my cries loud and completely beyond my control. My hands strain against the tie binding them, a strange erotic spark urging me on as I realize my complete and utter subjection; I am not going to lie, it is fucking hot. With each thrust Christian withdraws to the tip, before claiming me over and over again. It is deep, hard, and fucking exhilarating. Just when I get used to the pace, Christian tugs hard on my hair as he spanks me again.

"Scream for me again Anastasia," Christian says as he releases my hair and grips both of my hips. "Say my name." His command is powerful, alluring.

"Christian," I say with a cry of pure unfiltered lust. He yanks me towards him, the repositioning of my body allowing his thrusts to go deeper still. "Fuck yes," I scream ferociously.

"That's it, take it beautiful girl." With great skill, he finds my clitoris and starts to play a symphony. "You are so fucking close, let me take you there."

"I want nothing more." My legs have begun to wobble, my body as close to the edge as it can be without toppling over.

"Come for me," he says with a hard pinch to my clitoris, which sends me right over the boundary into oblivion. I release a scream which is complete ecstasy, and I think that causes Christian's immediate climax.

With heavy panting, Christian withdraws from inside me. His hands grab me as my legs begin to tremble. Using one hand he releases me from his tie, and then he draws me up and into his arms. I am conscious only long enough for him to deposit me onto his bed, him encircling me from behind. Falling asleep almost instantly, I drift off listening to the calming sounds of his breathing beside me.

I wake with a gentle kiss to my temple. The groan I release is one of genuine frustration. Not sure if I am ready to be awake, to be roused from my completely satisfied state, I open one eye. Christian's smiling face greets me, causing an involuntary smile to capture my own expression. In a past life I must have done something truly amazing if I get to wake up to this sight.

"Morning Anastasia," Christian whispers as he kisses the end of my nose. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him onto the bed with me, hooking my leg around him.

"Good Morning Christian," I say just before I capture his lips with my own. It isn't until I try to run my hands over his bare chest that I register he isn't bare any longer, but completely dressed. I pull back from him and pout. "You're dressed."

"Big day ahead of us," His eyes search mine. I can feel a nervous energy coming off of him. "Get dressed, I have a surprise."

"I am pretty sure you ripped my dress last night. I haven't a thing to wear." It doesn't even bear mentioning my destroyed panties. Christian leans down and kisses the pout right off my mouth.

"And while I would suggest not getting dressed, I don't like the thought of anyone else seeing what is mine." His smile is megawatt, and utterly disarming. "I am sure there is something around for you to wear."

"Mia leave any clothes here ever?" A look of displeasure washes over his face.

"Not sure I like the idea of you wearing my little sister's clothes." His eyes move from my face to my exposed breasts.

"You have a better option? Because I could go home to get," he captures my lips with his own before he lets me finish talking.

"No way, you are mine this weekend." He rests his forehead on mine, I drag him closer using my legs. "All mine, and only mine." I claim his lips this time, devouring all that I can of Christian Grey. When he drags my hands away from his belt, I whimper in displeasure.

"Why did you stop?" I mimic a much loved mannerism from him by cocking my head to the side.

"Because if we don't stop now, I won't be able to stop at all." For effect he grips the side of my head like a vice. "And we need to get everything out in the open before we can move forward." I know he is right, but my hardened nipples and wet crotch beg for a different answer.

"Then I think I need a cold shower," I say with well meaning moan.

"I'll leave you to it." Christian elegantly stands from the bed, pulling my naked body up with him. He lets his eyes travel the entire landscape of my body, a sexy smirk plastered to his face. "Just think of my throbbing rock hard cock while you are in there," he whispers slowly into my ear before turning and walking out of his bedroom.

For a few seconds I stand there next to his bed, eyes blinking. I don't know how he does it, but his words never fail to make me hornier than a prisoner. Once I regain my sense of self, once some of my hormones settle down, I head into the bathroom and take a quick shower. Wrapped in a towel, I nervously go up the stairs towards the pink bedroom I once spent the night in. I look to make sure Taylor or Gail aren't anywhere around.

There isn't much in the wardrobe, but there is a cute sun dress that is a couple sizes too big. I doubt it would even fit Mia, but maybe she has to get a bigger size to fit her boobs into it. The cute little sunflowers on the navy looks unbelievably cute. I head back downstairs, drying my hair with the towel as I go. Standing at the open office door and watch Christian on his computer for a few moments.

"I really should leave some clothes here so this doesn't happen again," I say and watch his eyes shift focus onto me.

"You should do shopping with Mia, that dress looks adorable on you." He gives me a lopsided grin. Now that is what I would call adorable, especially when he is dressed in a white polo shirt and gray dress shorts.

"Adorable, what every girls wants to hear." I cannot keep my eyes from rolling.

"Sorry Anastasia, sexy." He leans back in his chair, making a steeple with his fingers in front of his chest.

"Is it adorable that I have no bra on?" I have began to walk towards him, running my left hand across my chest.

"Very," he says before clearing his throat. I lean in beside him, let him feel the warmth of my body close by.

"Is it adorable that I have no panties on?" I whisper into his ear. He runs a hand up the back of thigh.

"Incredibly." His hand disappear under the dress, causing me to hiss as his fingers tease my flesh.

"Do we still need to leave the apartment?" I straddle him, both his hands move below the fabric of my clothing.

"Need?" Christian shakes his head as he inserts his right index finger inside me. I grip the back of the chair tightly. "No. Want?" He adds another finger, causing me to throw my head back and thrust myself further onto his hand. "Yes, Miss Steele. Want indeed." When he begins to move his fingers, I lose control.

"Fuck Christian, please don't stop." He moves forward and begins to kiss my neck slowly, teasingly.

"Were you a good girl? I hope you didn't touch yourself this week or in my shower just now." He bites playfully at my skin, slowing the pace of his movements below. "You can think and you can imagine." Suddenly he curls his fingers, hitting all my nerves inside. I let out an animalistic moan, and he starts to move faster again. "But your pleasure, my pleasure, only together."

"No, Sir I didn't." My breathing is picking up pace with his fingers. "Not once."

"Good, Anastasia." I can feel the orgasm about to take control of my body, and it does when his thumb flicks over my clitoris as he hooks his fingers deep inside me again. I collapse onto his chest, smile against him.

"I don't think I can walk," I say and smile wider when he chuckles.

"Do you want me to carry you to the car?" I shake my head as he brushes the hair from my face. He tenderly cups the side of my head with one hand.

"No, I was kidding." I see a flash of joy in his eyes, but am still unprepared for him to suddenly stand. My thighs clasps tightly around his middle, and he wraps one arm around me.

Before I can blink we are in the elevator, making out against the wall as we travel downwards. We don't see anyone, don't notice anything other than each other. As always, Christian opens the passenger side door of the R8 for me. I don't care to ask where we are going, I am just happy to be with him again.

The Marina shouldn't have come as a surprise, yet it does as it comes into view. Private planes, helicopters, of course Christian would have a boat. As Christian takes my hand and leads me towards a particularly big boat, I catch the name scrolled on the side in cursive; 'The Grace'. He named it after his mother, how incredibly sweet.

As climb aboard, I try and imagine fishing with Ray off of this thing; I cannot, it is so fucking fancy. There doesn't appear to be any staff on board, so I guess Christian can sail this thing himself. He promises a tour later, and leads me to the upper deck. Once he has perched me on a seat near the steering wheel, he promptly disappears. I can hear noises, what sounds like ropes. Leaning towards the sound I can see Christian untying something.

"Wondered where you got so good with knots," I say with a sarcastic smirk. Christian looks up and smiles with an evil grin.

"Wrong, Miss Steele." He finishes what he was doing and returns to my side, putting his hands on the wheel. "It is the second most useful place for that ability however." I giggle, happy yet surprised that his kinky fuckery no longer bothers me in the slightest. I look up at Christian as he idles the boat out of the marina.

"You don't need to take me out on your boat to talk about your past." He is looking far off into the distance when he answers.

"Maybe I want to ensure you have nowhere to run?" The voice coming from the man standing beside me is more like the lost little boy I sometimes catch looking back at me.

"If I didn't run at Mrs. Robinson, what makes you think I will run at this?" I stand, folding myself into his side and place a hand on his forearm. Without looking at me he kisses the crown of my head, continuing to steer the boat. Our silence is long, comfortable, and overwhelmingly meaningful.

After about a half hour, and after I shiver slightly from the cold spray, Christian takes me inside the cabin and back down to the lower deck. I sit at the impressive leather lounge set against the panoramic view of the bay. Christian wraps a blanket around my shoulders, lovingly rubbing me to give warmth. I watch as he moves to the other side of the lounge, sitting himself down. His hands shift about in his lap, his nerves coming off him in waves.

"You weren't this worried about telling me about your playroom," I say with my most calming voice. This is a new look for Christian, one that has me concerned.

"Now that I have something to lose, I have something to be nervous about." He pulls out a manila folder, but it is pretty thin, and slides it across the coffee table between us.

I pick it up, and from the folder I pull out a photo. It is clearly old, from a different time. The woman staring back at me is beautiful. However, I cannot quite place the sense of familiarity I see in her. In a funny way she looks like me, blue eyes, brown hair, fare skin and a more than passing likeness. Then I look closer at the eyes, and they aren't quite blue; they are gray. I look up at Christian with curious eyes.

"That is the woman who gave birth to me." He slowly nods his head in the direction of the photo pinched between my fingers.

"Your mother?" The surprise in my voice is genuine. I squint my eyes at the photo, and I can see his beauty reflected back in hers.

"The crack whore who I share DNA with. Grace is my mother." Even as he says crack whore, I know he doesn't really feel that way about the woman in this photo.

"She abandoned you?" I say as I place the photo back into the folder, looking up and into his sad eyes.

"She died. Overdose." He sounds almost robotic, resigned.

"Christian, I'm so sorry." I reach my hand across the coffee table, palm up hoping he will accept the small comfort I can give him. He looks at my hand for about a minute before reaching out himself to grasp it.

"She loved me, I think." I squeeze his hand tightly, blinking back tears I desperately want to shed. "But she loved drugs more, which lead to the whoring." Christian takes a shakily breath. "Those scars on my chest, you know the ones."

"Yes," I say with a very unsteadily voice. The first tear falls from my eye, and I grip onto his hand tighter still.

"Cigarette burns from her pimp who wouldn't be inconvenienced by our lack of ashtray. He liked to say he was too much of a gentleman to put them out on our furniture or the floor." Christian breaks his eye contact with me, looking out the window and into the bay. "Somehow I can remember that," he says with a far off sounding voice.

"And your mother never stopped him?" Without looking back at me, Christian shakes his head.

"Either she was so high she didn't notice, or he had bashed and fucked her into complacency." I swallow loudly, wiping the tears from my face with my free hand. "One day she shot up, for the last time." He finally turns back to look at me, his entire face in anguish. "They didn't find her, us, until days later."

"You were there when she died?" When he brokenly nods, I can no longer stay on the other side of the lounge.

I let go of his hand, moving until I am crouching in front of him between his legs. Kneeling before him, I reach up and take his face in my hands. With great care he lifts up his arms and places his hands on my forearms. I can sense he is far from done, so I wait patiently for him to be ready to continue. His deep inhale signals to me his intent to go on.

"He came looking for a fix, trade her drugs for sex like always," Christian says before breathing in deeply again. "He actually laughed when he saw her, us, there. Turning back out the door, locking it again before calling the police."

"How long?" I stroke his face gently, try to coax some kind of comfort for him.

"Three days." Even though I have been trying my hardest to remain strong while he tells me his story, I do release a sharp exhale at this bit of information. "Grace looked like an angel when she appeared in that apartment. Beautiful, radiant, and virtuous. She still looks that way to me now, to this day."

Christian moves his hands along my arms, removing my hands from his face leisurely. He wipes the tears from my face, his eyes heartbreakingly miserable. I stand from my position on the floor, sitting down near him but not directly beside him. We both sit in silence for a few minutes, nothing but the steadily noise of the water around us.

"Thanks for telling me Christian," I say after some time.

"Ready to run for the hills yet because I am all kinds of fucked up?" He is injecting false humor into his voice, his very real abandonment issues apparent to me now.

"Why would this horrible, tragic, thing that happened to you make me want to run for the hills?" I scoot closer to him on the lounge, but he stands and walks away from me.

"I went from sleeping in a box with a crack whore, to a foster home that treated kids like transactions, and then I became a Grey." He forcefully runs his hand through his hair, giving it an even more tousled look than usual. "Grace saved me that day. Her and Carrick have saved me every day since; but going from the life I had to becoming a Grey, well I never thought I was good enough."

"They chose you, picked you, to love." I stand as I start talking, but I don't invade his space; I know he needs to come to me himself now.

"I didn't understand that then, barely do now." His voice breaks a little as he speaks, all the control he worked so hard to maintain slipping until he is exposed before me. "I did everything I could to make that decision worth it for them."

"I know Grace and Carrick, all they want is for you to be happy." I implore him with my voice and my eyes to believe in what I am saying.

"In my teen years I wasn't happy. I was afraid of touch, afraid of disappointing the people who saved me," Christian is walking towards me as he speaks. "And I was very, very angry. I started going down a path parallel to my mother's."

"Drugs?" He shakes his head. "Prostitution?" He chuckles.

"A self destructive one. Fighting, and the like." The look on his face is one of disappointment, shame. It triggers a memory of something he once said about how he started in the lifestyle, that he found it an acceptable form of love.

"Then Mrs. Robinson came into your life." I cannot help it when my hands form into fists at my sides. Hearing about his past makes her praying on his vulnerability all the worse somehow.

"Yes, then Mrs. Robinson. She gave my anger and feeling of worthlessness an outlet." Christian stops in front of me, just out of reach.

"When you became her submissive." I sound impassive, but I am trying to keep the judgement from my voice. Not judgement of him, judgement of her.

"Correct," he says with a curt nod.

"Christian I know all this." He leans forward, past me towards the coffee table. Withdrawing the photo from the folder still sitting there, he stands upright again and passes it to me.

"Yes, but look at the picture again Anastasia." I shift my gaze from his face to his mother's in the image. "Really look."

"She has your eyes," I say quietly, not understanding what his mother's looks have to do with Mrs. Robinson and the BDSM lifestyle.

"Anything else." He cocks his head to the side, a flash of his ordinary self staring back at me as I look up at him.

"Well, my first thought was that she kind of looks like me." His eyes penetrate me with their intensity.

"Precisely." He takes the photo back out of my hands, placing it down on the coffee table once more. "Every woman I have ever been with, besides Elena, has looked like her."

"Every submissive?" I shallow the lump in my throat.

"They call it transference. At least Dr. Flynn, my psychologist, likes to." He takes a hesitant step towards me. "I get off on controlling and punishing women who look like the woman who made my life chaos."

"Women who look like me," I say matter-of-factly. He nods, his eyes locking onto mine. "Christian, if this is what you think will scare me off, you need to try harder." He lets out a breath I hadn't realized he had been keeping in.

"You are a marvel." He closes the small distance between us, pulling me into a tender hug.

"I want to try the Red Room, see that side of you." I say it before I really think it. Christian's body tenses within the hug.

"That isn't a good idea Anastasia," he says as he holds me away from his body. His eyes are serious, apprehensive.

"I want to know all of you." There is a burning need within me to know every part of him, just like I want him to know every part of me.

"You do. More than any one person ever has." He surprises me by capturing my lips in a searing kiss, leaving me breathless when he pulls away. "Anastasia, I don't want to punish you. I want to," he pauses. I am sure he almost said I want to love you. "I want to cherish you."

Neither of us particularly feel like spending any more time on the boat, so we return to the marina. Christian holds me in his arms the entire way back to his apartment, somehow still managing to drive perfectly. He has won the argument regarding the Red Room, for now at least. When we arrive back at his apartment there are two racks of ladies clothes sitting in the great entryway. Christian wins that argument too; even if I am not particularly happy about it. Yet when he earnestly says he wants me to feel at home in his home, well what is a girl to do?

Sunday is filled with nothing but eating, sleeping, and fucking; I am pretty sure a little of making love also. I feel so close to him after everything he has shared with me, beyond touched that he feels comfortable enough with me to share his past pain. Mrs. Robinson's attempt to tear us apart has only brought us closer. There is only that last little piece of him he is holding back. As I lay next to him in bed Sunday night, I feel with absolute certainty that I am in love with Christian Grey.

* * *

Author's Note:

Sorry about the long delay! I have literally finished this chapter in the last couple of hours, first chance I have had to write in a couple of weeks. If it has errors, I cannot apologize enough. Good thing I have the story blocked out, or this would have been even later in getting posted.

Thank you so much for your continued support, and words of encouragement! They really mean the world to me!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six - Dr Jekyll

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Six - Dr. Jekyll

Syrup is messy. Especially when it is running down your breasts; I am not sure I will ever look at pancakes the same way again. Nothing with Christian and I ends very innocently though. It started with him asking if I wanted a quick breakfast and ended with us fucking on the kitchen floor. Best Monday Morning ever. Well, until just a little later that is.

We should have seen it coming, but when Christian opened up the newspaper after our joint shower I get a massive shock. On the front page of 'The Seattle Times', just below the fold, is a really great action shot of Christian and I making out in front of the art gallery Friday night. My first thought was why Kate didn't warn me, however I instantly regret it. Chances are she didn't even know about it. Christian and I read the article together.

* * *

Back To Where It All Began?

We can reveal that Christian Grey is indeed seeing a Seattle transplant, Miss Anastasia Steele. Spotted in a heated exchange at a gallery opening in Portland, we wonder if this is where the pair first met. The exhibit's artist shone the light on who our mystery brunette is, claiming her as an old friend.

As for how long the pair have been together, well your guess is as good as ours. We can all agree that more details are required on just how Seattle's most eligible bachelor became ineligible. Watch this space, more to come.

* * *

Despite my absolute fury over the press naming me like I belong to them, I laugh. In his rejection Jose has given my name to the press, I am assuming in the hopes that they publish his name and drum up publicity for his show. Yet they have failed to mention his name even once. It is almost worth it, fucking prick.

Christian is clearly pissed, instantly onto the phone. I don't think he cares that everyone now knows he is in a relationship. No, the reason is that they have my name. It is only a matter of time before other details of my life emerge. I have seen Kate gorge herself on celebrity relationships before, guilty pleasure of the industry she would always say.

I pick up the paper as I watch Christian pacing back and forth; he hasn't said anything in a while. As I scan the front page it is then I catch the banner at the top, and the byline of K. Kavanagh. Only Kate could get a front page article her first week; as an intern too. Stuff like that doesn't happen to regular people. I cannot rip into the article fast enough.

* * *

Breach of child protective services not just state wide, but nation wide

Children already suffering the lost of their families, loved ones, and their homes are suffering again. The breach comes from a disgruntled staffer who, after being unable to locate a baby they put up for adoption when they were a teenager, has released confidential records going back decades. The massive data spill is unprecedented in US Child Protective Services History, many asking how it could have possibly happened.

* * *

This must have been the article that Kate has been working so hard on, the scoop that her father was tipped onto back when they were on holiday. She was clearly able to verify her source over the weekend. The implications of this is massive, so many lost souls affected. How could someone ever think to do this to defenseless children?

"Anastasia." Out of the corner of my eye I see Christian walk over and place a hand over the phone. "Are you okay; you are white as a sheet?" I put the paper back down and try to manage a smile up at him. He kisses me softly on the top of my head.

"Yes, are you almost done?" I take hold of his sleeve, trying to pull him to me.

"Just waiting for my head of PR," he whispers and kisses my head again. "I actually might head into my office for a bit, talk with Taylor." I nod, and he briefly kisses me on the lips before he heads out of the room. I pick up my phone with the intention of calling Kate, when the devil herself calls me.

"Anastasia, I swear I didn't know that they had your name," Kate says as soon as I connect the call.

"Kate, that is secondary right now. Your article is amazing." I can say this with confidence, even if I have only read a small portion of it. Despite my feelings about the whole city, country probably, knowing I am dating Christian Grey I am still beyond proud of my best friend.

"Oh, you don't care about your secret being out?" Kate sounds skeptical, but then again she almost always does.

"Yes, but your success is way more interesting." When I notice I am tracing the picture of us on the front of the newspaper I stop. I don't think I have quite processed how I feel about being named in 'The Seattle Times' for nothing more than whom I am dating.

"I didn't beat Dad per say with the story, but our papers published on the same day." I can tell from the cadence of her voice she is overjoyed and rightly so.

"And you haven't even been on the job all that long and you have a front page story," I say with a smile on my face. Katherine Kavanagh, she truly is a marvel.

"It has never happened before and not likely to ever happen again." I wish I could see her face right now; I can picture the self-satisfied expression on her face easily. "Back to getting coffee today, the more experienced journalists are getting all the interesting follow up stories."

"Like who is affected?" I hear the uptick in my voice, revealing the strange sense of unease since reading Kate's headline.

"Yeah, the data dump named people who were put up for adoption and their parent's circumstances; everything really since they started digital records." My stomach drops, Christian.

"Really?" The quiver in my speech is genuine, my worry suddenly growing.

"It is going to take forever to sort through the data, but one Senator with a firm religious stance has already been revealed to have given her baby up at nineteen." Kate is processing the story from a purely professional stance, her mind focused on the work ahead.

"Shit," I say without thinking. My mind is solely focused on the beautiful and wounded man that I have recently realized I love.

"Yeah, and I am sure that is just the tip of the iceberg." I can hear her shifting around on the other end of the line, spurring me to check my watch. Knowing her she will be heading to work very soon.

"Well you will have to tell me all about it tonight at dinner." With some effort I try to keep the growing worry out of my voice.

"Christian finally letting you out of his sex dungeon?" It is only a joke, but fuck me if it isn't close to reality. If only he would let me into said sex dungeon.

"Oh ha ha, Miss Kavanagh." I roll my eyes as I hear her laugh.

"Love you, talk tonight." The honest joy in her speech makes me momentarily forget the shit that is currently going on in my life.

"Love you too," I giggle into the phone and hang up.

I walk past Christian's office, but the door is closed. From inside the room I can hear Christian's soft voice and Taylor's strong murmurs. I let the two of them be, instead going into Christian's bedroom and through to the adjourning bathroom. With unsteady hands I try my best to apply my makeup for work; the entire time my mind going back and forth between the city knowing my name and the potential of Christian's past being revealed.

Once I am ready to face the day with my game face on, I head back out into the lounge; after I grab another coffee from the kitchen that is. Christian walks in after a couple of minutes. He sits beside me, my body instantly gravitating towards his. As I fold myself into his side, I take a deep breath and allow his scent to calm me.

"Anastasia, I cannot apologize enough for this." I don't answer; instead I reach forward to grab a hold of the paper and just hold it up in front of him. His eyes dart back and forth, his face increasingly ashen the more he reads.

"Do you think?" I say with my head tilted to the side. Christian sighs, sinking further into the lounge beside me. Absentmindedly he tucks my hair behind my ear, reaching out and taking a sip of my coffee.

"Anastasia, with my luck I know." He is looking directly into my eyes, the apprehension evident from his gaze.

"I am here for you Christian," I say as I take his hands in mine. The gentle smile that overtakes his face makes me fall just that little bit more in love with him.

"All day?" He raises an eyebrow, and I let out a girly chuckle.

"Well I was planning on going to work in about ten minutes." I hold my wrist in front of his face, showing him the time.

"You still want to go into work today?" He leans forward and kisses my wrist just below my watch.

"Yes, it is important to me," I say in a whisper once the shivers have subsided and I have lowered my hand. "Do you think any other employee would be allowed to take the day off because she was on the front page?"

"No, you are right." His hands don't seem to think I am right, because they have snaked around my waist.

"Besides, what would my boss's boss's boss's boss think?" With intent I look him in the eye and bite my lip.

"I have a few thoughts." His grip on me tightens, a surge of lust shooting through my entire body.

"Cheeky, Mr. Grey." I join my hands together around his neck with a smirk.

"You certainly bring it out in me Miss Steele." Christian is leaning in close to me, he has practically dragged me onto his lap. I look at him seriously for a few seconds before dropping my head towards our increasingly tangled bodies.

"Are you going to be okay, considering everything?" I fiddle with the collar of his shirt at the nape of his neck.

"What everything?" His right hand comes up to meet my chin, forcing my head upwards so our eyes lock again. "That my girlfriend was publicly named on the same day that all my childhood trauma potentially became available for public consumption?"

"Yes, that everything." I let my arms drop, allowing Christian to more comfortably cup the side of my face.

"You are mine, and I am yours." He pulls me fully onto his lap and plants a powerful kiss on my lips. "Nothing else really matters," he says as his rests his forehead against mine. I feel my heart skip a beat, the urge to tell him I love him powerful. Now is not the time though. I don't think either of us could handle the shift in our relationship dynamic today. Instead I pull him towards me and kiss him tenderly.

As it always does with Christian, time has no meaning. I don't know how long we sit on that lounge, but it will never feel like enough. It is hard to pull myself away from him, but as Taylor appears he lets me go reluctantly. Although we instantly merge together again once we are in the back of the Escalade. If Taylor is annoyed by our displays of affection, he doesn't show it in the slightest; in fact I think I even see him smile when Christian kisses the back of my hand.

Taylor's approach to my commute to work is with military procession. I would find it funny if he wasn't taking it so seriously. If it had made me laugh it would have died on my lips as soon as I saw the press outside of Escala. It is in that moment I am infinitely grateful that I have both Christian and Taylor with me. With luck I didn't know I possessed, there is no one waiting at SIP thankfully; that part of my life mercifully spared from the circus for now.

It feels like a million years since I left the office on Friday afternoon with Kate and Ethan. Mr. Harrington is conducting more interviews, more vacant positions being filled. As I load up my computer, I try to focus on the work ahead of me for the day. I answer a few emails, return a couple phone calls. For the second time today I am caught off guard when an instant message pops up on my computer.

* * *

*I know who you are dating, do you?*

* * *

I read it, and then I reread it. The instant message is an internal thing, only staff members have access. Despite it being text, I am somehow reading it with a threatening undertone. I know I shouldn't, but the urge to respond will not be abated.

* * *

*I don't understand*

* * *

*Oh, you will*

* * *

*Who is this?*

* * *

*Just call me Dr. Jekyll*

* * *

Hyde, of course. If I am being honest I haven't given him a moment's thought since my first day here at SIP. I didn't perceive him as a threat, not after Christian made sure to get him out of my life. Yet here he is, making sure to remind me that he still has power. All the blood must have drained from my face, because Mr. Harrington looks at me with concern when I knock on his office door. My feet carried me to his office, my brain still unsure of what course of action to take.

"Sorry to bother you," I say with a tone in my voice that has his attention immediately.

"No not at all, are you feeling okay?" The man pushes his chair back from the desk, his attentive eyes giving me complete consideration.

"Well, I just had a disturbing message exchange. Is it possible for Jack Hyde to still have access to our computer network?" I step over the threshold of his office, Mr. Harrington's eyebrows shoot up as I ask my question.

"That would be greatly concerning. May I read the messages?" Neither of us wastes any time; I take him to my computer and show him the message chain. I don't tell him I have already taken a screenshot and emailed it to Christian.

"What should I do?" Telling Mr. Harrington is basically reporting it to HR, but I need something to be done about this.

"I will have security check it out." My cell starts to ring, making both Mr. Harrington and I jump. There for the both of us to read on the display is 'Christian'.

"I'm sorry, it is my boyfriend." I love calling him that, even in this circumstance. "I wanted to tell him about this." It isn't until this point that it occurs to me that Christian is technically Mr. Harrington's boss; shit.

"I think you should take a break anyway, you look like you need it." He pats me on the arm, and walks back down the corridor. I answer my phone as I walk to the staff kitchen.

"Jack Hyde, I know it is him." I surprise even myself with how calm I sound.

"Taylor is already on route." Christian's response is quick and to the point, much like how I answered the call. We make quite the power couple; no fuss, no muss.

"Why?" I reach for the coffee pot, cursing internally when I discover it empty.

"I need to know you are safe." For some primal reason this makes me swoon a little. Even over the phone I can sense the protective energy coming off of him.

"What about you, don't you have Taylor for a reason?" I return the concern in kind. A frown forms on my face as I pour the ground up coffee beans in the machine and start it up.

"Grey House is so much more secure than SIP, especially if Hyde can still get into the internal messaging system." I let out a sigh; I might love him but Christian can still frustrate me.

"That didn't really answer my question." I stick my coffee mug underneath the coffee drip, the smell filling my nostrils.

"Miss Steele, you try my patience." That makes two of us, Mr. Grey. "Just for once can you please just do what I ask?" The anxiety in his voice stops me in my tracks.

"Okay, Taylor can hang out at SIP with me." One of us needs to compromise, I will let him win this round; I know I can make him come around when I need to.

"Good girl." He already sounds better. I swap my mug for the coffee pot and watch the drip continue.

"I'm no girl Christian," I say with a smirk, knowing that now he can handle a little light teasing.

"Not Anastasia, you are all woman." His voice has dropped lower, it is a voice that he knows does things to me.

"And this woman needs to get back to work." I take a long sip of my coffee, wishing it were better.

"Had any questions about today's paper?" I smirk again, this tells me he doesn't want to end the call.

"Have you?" I lean against the kitchen counter, glad that no one in the office has come in while I have been on the phone.

"My people know what is good for them." This makes me laugh, regardless of it not being an actual joke.

"I'll bet." I cannot even imagine someone with balls big enough to dare ask Christian about the article; except maybe for Kate that is.

"Would you now Miss Steele?" Currently I am picturing the look of pure mischief that must be on that beautiful face of his.

"I would bet an evening in the Red Room that not one person would ask you about it." Even as I say it, I am not sure I have made the right decision in bringing this up now.

"I am afraid I don't like those odds." It seems he is still not quite ready for that. I won't let that disappoint me however.

"Shame, I look so good in red." I am still testing how far I can push him, learning how much he can give to me freely.

"I am going to have to let you get back to work, before I end up over there with you bent over your desk in front of all your coworkers." I swallow hard. Oh my, that is a mental image that I will carry around for a while.

"No one would have any questions after that display." I fan myself dramatically, I don't care that he cannot see me. My face must be blushed covered by now.

"Goodbye Miss Steele." He sounds so pleased with himself. It is silly but just talking to him has made me so happy I have forgotten why we were even on the phone in the first place.

"Laters, baby." I can hear him laugh as I end the call.

I would never tell Christian, but to be honest it seemed throughout the day people were itching to ask about the news article I featured in. I know everyone in the office knew about it, having seen the paper in our lunchroom. Taylor doing a sweep of the office didn't help matters either. I still managed to get work done despite this, everyone keeping it professional. My hope is that they continue to see I got this job on merit, not because of who I am fucking.

No one in the office acted suspicious when all our email and computer passwords were changed. They didn't even question why this must be done; only some mumblings that Grey Enterprise is a little more security conscious than the old owner. Everything else throughout the day was normal, besides Taylor standing guard at reception, and I didn't receive any more messages. I call Christian as Taylor drives me home alone.

"Hey Beautiful, are you heading home?" I wonder if he means my apartment or his.

"I am going to have dinner with Kate and Ethan, since I haven't seen them since Friday night." With a secret hope, I wish he meant his apartment.

"For the best, I am going to be stuck at the office for a while." I imagine him all alone in that big ass office of his.

"Do you want company?" I hear him chuckle, it immediately makes me smile.

"I would never get anything done." I pretty sure he would manage to get me done, probably more than once.

"Well call me when you are home, okay?" I stare out the window of the car as we wiz through the evening traffic.

"Sure, wouldn't dream of missing the chance of talking to you." He sounds as wistful as I feel.

Taylor politely declines my offer to have dinner with us; instead he wishes me a good night and waits for me to enter my apartment building. I keenly feel the absence of Christian, even if Taylor is pretty great. Kate, Ethan, and I have dinner together for the first time in what feels like an age. It seems the three of us all have a lot going on, everyone sharing what has been going on in their life.

"You know there are more of those images online Ana," Ethan jokes as he spears some pasta onto his fork. "My classmates found one that you can see us Kavanaghs in." Kate snorts at this.

"And you are just hating the attention am I right Ethan?" I mock punch his arm, earning a boyish smirk from him.

"Thank Christian for me," Ethan says as he dramatically rubs where I hit him. "All the babes are asking how I know him. He is a total chick magnet." This makes me laugh hard.

"Don't thank Christian, thank Seattle Times," I say with a shake of my head.

"I am so sorry guys, I had no idea they were even running that article." Kate, despite the laugh on her face, genuinely looks apologetic. "They have been giving me shit at work about not sharing anything, and I think I would be in actually trouble if I hadn't brought them my scoop."

"Dad is so pissed," Ethan says as he fusses Kate's hair. She smacks his arm away and I watch the two of them exchange a look of sibling love.

"I know." Kate smiles so wide I am worried her face might split into two.

"I am sure he is insanely proud too," I say with the knowledge that Mr. Kavanagh would be beyond what us mortals call proud.

"I know that too," she says as she grabs my hand and squeezes it.

"Speaking of your story, do you have access to the data?" I look down towards my bowl, pushing some of the pasta around it with my fork.

"It is out there if you know where to look, why?" Kate hasn't removed her hand from mine.

"Could you help me look through some from a particular time period?" She squeezes my hand again, somehow saying so much without saying anything.

"Sounds like hard work," Ethan says as he shovels the rest of his food into his mouth. "My queue to leave you ladies to it. If you need me I will be in my room writing about abnormal psychology. Nice to have two amazing specimens right here."

"Hope you are including yourself in that one," I yell after him as he speeds from the room. I turn back to Kate who is staring at me.

"Why do you want to look at the records?" She raises an eyebrow. I recognize the inquisitive look on her face, she is on the hunt for information.

"Christian might be in them." Even though I know he probably has people and lawyers looking into is, I just want to know if he has been affected for myself.

"Oh shit, I didn't even think of that." I watch her calculating eyes work, watch her trying to recall information from when she wrote about Christian all those weeks ago. "I should have a good idea of where about to start looking."

Kate and I are reading through some of the data from around the time we calculated Christian was adopted. He is so intertwined with Seattle in my mind that it is hard to picture him in Detroit, yet as I have learnt that is his city of birth. Kate is pointing to an image on her laptop screen of a group of children standing in front of a house when my cell starts to blast. I assume it is Christian because no one else would be calling this late. It is however an unknown number, a landline. I answer, curiosity talking control.

"Anastasia Steele," I say with a friendly yet professional tone.

"Ana," a tired, stained voice answers. It takes a second for me to place the voice, then I realize it is Grace Grey.

"Grace?" Why is Grace calling me, on the edge of tears?

"I've called the family, but I know he would want you here." I feel my knees buckle under my weight.

"Where?" I don't feel myself speak, but I hear the word as it comes out of my mouth.

"Seattle General, there was a fire at Grey House." Kate catches me as my legs give way from beneath me.

* * *

Author's Note:

Hope I haven't lost you guys, sorry about my delays of late but I have my reasons. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter, despite the wait! Sorry about the dramatic end, don't worry about Christian too much!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven - I'm Starting

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven - I'm Starting To

The fire was small, contained easily. There was no one in Grey House at the time of the blaze, besides Christian that is. I feel dizzy as I follow meekly behind Kate as she leads me through the hospital, unsure of where I am going but certain I need to find Christian. When I spot Grace and Elliot standing by the nurse's station, I hurriedly pick up my pace. Grace clearly had been on duty at the hospital when Christian arrived, she is still wearing her doctor's scrubs.

"Ana," she says with a motherly voice as I approach. Kate senses for once the need to hang back, taking a seat in a waiting area nearby.

"How is he?" Grace pulls me into a hug as I ask the question. She squeezes me tight; I try to give her what little strength I have by returning the hug tenfold.

"He is fine." Elliot's voice sounds unconcerned, but when I look at him I can see he is clearly worried about his little brother.

"Smoke inhalation, mainly." Grace still has an arm around me, but she reaches out and takes Elliot's hand.

"And if he hadn't put the fire out himself he wouldn't even have that," Elliot says with some of his good humor returning to his voice. If I didn't know better, I would say he was proud of his little brother's courageousness.

"Good thing Taylor showed up when he did, it could have been so much worse." Grace is staring forlornly across the desk towards a closed door. I am hit with sudden guilt. Would Christian be here at all if Taylor hadn't been with me today?

"So Taylor found him?" My voice cracks, causing Grace to look back at me. It is Elliot who answers my question though.

"Yeah, he pulled him out of the server room and got him to the hospital." I can tell he wants to say more, but stops when Grace starts talking.

"I thought I was having a nightmare when they came through the doors," she says softly. I can imagine that as a mother, and a doctor, that would be her worst nightmare.

"It should never have happened," I say barely holding in my tears and without elaborating. I would hate for Grace to find out why Christian's CPO wasn't with him, why Taylor wasn't there to prevent exactly this.

"Sweetheart, it will be okay." Grace pulls me into another hug. "We are all here for him; that is what matters."

"Carrick and Mia?" I hadn't seen them, but that doesn't mean they aren't here somewhere.

"Carrick went to pick up Mia; she didn't take the news well," Grace says with a concerned expression on her face. It is clear that Christian is not the only child on her mind.

"You know Mia," Elliot says with a sigh. "She can be a little dramatic." In this instance I can totally relate. "And she idealizes Christian."

"And you too Elliot," Grace adds as she wraps her arms around her eldest son.

The three of us stop talking when the door Grace had been staring at opens. Looking a little dirty, sweaty, but still calm, Taylor emerges from the room. As he comes closer to us I brake whatever stupid protocol there is, and I hug him with everything I have. He doesn't immediately respond, and I can sense the hesitation within him.

"Thank you," I say as a whisper into his chest.

"Nothing to thank me for Ana," he says after a few moments. I feel his hand ever so gently pat me on the back of the head; his fatherly gesture makes the threat of crying even more real.

When he steps back though I know it is time to let go and I watch Taylor disappear down a corridor. I hope he is going to get a change of clothes and some rest; he has done enough for today. As Grace and Elliot converse with another of the hospital's doctors, I wander over to Kate. She is scribbling something down on a notepad, but she looks up as I approach. I give her a tentative smile.

"Will you get in to see him do you think?" Kate says as she clicks her pen. I nod, taking a seat beside her.

"Pretty sure Grace is going to make sure that I do." I rest my head against her shoulder. "You should go home, no sense in you waiting here for me."

"I want to be here for you," she says as she slings an arm around me and rests her head atop mine.

"And I appreciate that more than you know. But I know I will be here all night, I don't want to leave until he does." Kate simply nods.

"Yeah, I get that." I feel her head leave where it was resting, her body shifting ever so slightly. "If you are sure, I'll leave when you go into his room."

"I'm sure," I say as I sit up. I notice Grace is still talking to the doctor, but Elliot has disappeared. Kate and I sit together until Grace is finished and approaches us.

"This is my best friend, Kate." Kate stands quickly as I speak, thrusting her hand towards Grace who bypasses it and goes for a hug.

"I hope Christian is going to be okay," Kate says as she steps out of the hug from Grace. I can tell from the expression on her face that she was shocked to be hugged by Grace.

"He is a strong one," Grace says tenderly and with a sad smile. "Too strong sometimes." She turns to me, and takes my hand in hers. "You ready to see him?" All I can do is nod. Kate gives me a hug before she heads home, before I go into the hospital room to see who I now consider to be my home.

Grace tries to prepare me for what Christian will be like. Not having any experience with smoke inhalation before I don't know what to expect, but her explanation didn't do anything to help with my anxiety. His eyes are closed when I quietly enter the room. My gaze immediately travels to the oxygen mask over his mouth. When a small sob escapes from my throat his eyes open slowly.

I race over to his side when I see him try to take the mask off of his face. Putting my hand over his, I stop his movement. Leaning forward I place a gentle kiss on his forehead. He leans into my touch, so I reach up and brush the hair from his face. A small, sad, smile appears on his face.

It doesn't take long for him to fall back asleep. Pulling up a chair next to his bed, I rest my head against the edge of his body. I study his face as he sleeps; surprised that he is somehow both pale and red at the same time. After a few minutes, or it could have been an hour, I hear someone enter the room. Carrick, Mia, and Elliot are all standing there together.

Carrick looks crumpled, not entirely the well put together man I remember. Elliot is almost back to looking completely normal, he has been here the longest and must realize Christian is ultimately going to be okay. Yet I hardly recognize the woman that is Mia. For the first time I am seeing her without any makeup, which makes her look so much younger than she is. Also her cheeks are streaked with tears. I make no motion to stop Christian this time when he goes to take off the mask.

"No tears over me little sister," he says with an obvious struggle and a small cough. Mia rushes over, and I stand with Carrick and Elliot to give her some time with her brother. As she cries into his shoulder I watch him make eye contact with his father. The two share a look that I have shared many times with Ray.

"Don't you ever be so stupid again," Mia says with a loud wail. Carrick walks over and places a hand on both Mia and Christian's shoulder. Elliot moves closer to me.

"It means a lot that you are here," he says in a whisper as we both watch his father and brother comfort his sister. "To everyone. Christian has never had anyone in his life besides us before." I swallow the large lump in my throat, still not ready to let the river of tears free from my eyes. Christian chooses that moment to look up at me, his face looking so tired yet still entirely beautiful.

"The patient needs his rest," Grace says as she enters the room looking one hundred percent the doctor she is again. It catches me by surprise, as I was so caught up with the look in Christian's eye. "You will see him again tomorrow, but you all need your sleep too." Carrick has already begun to peel Mia from Christian, his arm around her as they walk to the exit.

"Glad you are okay bro," Elliot says with a little wave as he follows Carrick and Mia out the door. I too begin to follow, until I hear Christian's hoarse voice.

"Anastasia can say, can't she?" I turn and our eyes lock. Grace leans forward and kisses Christian on the forehead.

"Of course sweetheart," she says before turning to me. "Just don't make too much noise, as visitors aren't supposed to stay the night." I nod, and she squeezes my forearm before heading out the door herself.

When we are alone again, completely alone and while he is looking so intensely at me, all the pent up emotions hit me together. The tears I have been holding onto since Grace called me spring forth, cascading down my cheeks. They worsen as I watch a look of utter heartbreak cover Christian's face, as he holds his hand out towards me. I am standing next to his bedside in seconds.

"Baby, I'm okay. Please don't cry." Christian's voice, even when suffering from smoke inhalation, sounds so good saying baby. I take his hand in mine and kiss the inside of his palm.

"It is my fault," I say as I look into his eyes. The flash of confusion that flits through his expression is not lost on me.

"Did you set the fire?" He sounds incredulous, a single eyebrow raised. I shake my head, more tears falling. "Then how could it be your fault baby?"

"Taylor was with me, when he should have been with you." I didn't know it was possible to look angry when you look this unwell, but Christian manages it.

"Anastasia, don't be silly." He pauses to take a deep breath, making me feel worse. There is no way he should be talking this much right now. "I put myself at risk. I was stupid; I shouldn't have gone into that server room when I saw it alight." He pulls my hand towards him and kisses the back of it sweetly. "I wouldn't do it again, I never want to see you cry."

I am pretty sure the nurses and doctors won't like it, but when Christian scoots over in the bed I cannot resist. As I lay down beside him, staying above the covers, I snuggle into his side. His breathing is abnormal, not the steady and strong sound that I am used to. However tangled up in each other's arms we both drift off to sleep together before long.

The next thing I know I am being woken up by a nurse in the morning as she checks Christian's status. She taps me on the shoulder and waits for me to leave the bed before starting her examination. His coloring is already returning to normal, a spark reforming behind his eyes. Not too long after the nurse begins Grace appears in the room, watching her like a hawk.

"Mother, I think you are making her nervous." I smile as I hear Christian speak. That is more like the voice I know and love.

"Not at all," the nurse says in a comically nervous tone. Poor girl, not only is she treating Christian Fucking Grey but one of the head doctors is putting her under scrutiny. When she is done she scurries from the room like a mouse.

"How are you feeling dear?" Grace says as she looks over his chart herself. She nods and then shakes her head in quick succession.

"Better," Christian manages. I watch his struggle, a shortness of breath still bothering him quite significantly it seems. He snakes his hand towards where mine is resting on the bed, joining our fingers together as Grace continues to read.

"That is good," she says with some confidence. "But I think you should stay another night."

"I only have smoke inhalation, is that really necessary?" I suppress the giggle that threatens to escape me. It probably wouldn't be appropriate to find this situation funny, yet it is humorous how much Christian sounded like a petulant child just then.

"For my son it is." Christian's grip increases on my hand as Grace looks at him sternly.

"Hey Grace, I am finding myself in quite the need of caffeine. Any chance you know where I could get some?" I manage to keep the laughter from my voice, squeezing Christian's hand in understanding.

"Oh sure sweetheart. Come with me," she says and puts the chart down. "If you think you will be okay for a couple minutes by yourself Christian?" Christian quickly nods, which makes Grace smile and start for the door. He doesn't let go of my hand when I go to follow her though.

"Thank you," he whispers and tugs on my hand. I lean forward and kiss him gently.

"Anytime," I whisper back when I pull away. Christian lets go of my hand when Grace sticks her head back into the room looking for me.

"Coming," I call out as I stand; giving Christian a quick peck on the cheek as I go. My heart is instantly lifted as I hear him quietly chuckle as I exit the room.

As I walk back with Grace from the cafeteria I think I am starting to feel okay, some anxiety over Christian being in the hospital abating. The restorative powers of coffee really knows no bounds. We can hear voices as we approach Christian's room, so to give him some time with whomever is in there we both sit on the chairs outside. I get apprehensive when the voices start getting louder. My anxious energy is compounded when I place the voice in there besides Christian's; it is Mrs. Robinson.

"No, I don't want you here." Christian's voice is clear, firm, and apathetic. I see Grace's face change into a look of confusion. The wheels are turning in that bright brain of hers, wondering why her friend is visiting her son.

"Is she here?" Elena practically spits the words out. This is the point when Grace stands, but she hesitates at the door. I know from prior experience that Christian can handle Elena on his own, hospitalized or not, so I take another sip of my coffee and remain in my seat.

"Yes, my girlfriend is here with my mother." Christian's voice is getting weaker as he continues to use it.

"Listen to yourself Christian, girlfriend. I taught you not to be this stupid." I watch with interested eyes as Grace finally pushes the door open.

"Whatever does that mean Elena?" Grace has a pretty intimidating tone when she wants to bust it out it seems.

"Grace, it is nothing." Elena sounds unapologetic, and I hope Grace bitch slaps her; it would be a dream come true.

"Why are you even here?" Grace's voice has increased in volume, each word coming through the closed door loud and clear.

"I was worried about Christian," she says after a moment. Suddenly I notice that Taylor has appeared across the hallway from me. His eyes are locked onto the door, and I know he is hearing every word as well.

"Maybe you should let me do the worrying about Christian, Elena." I am currently imagining Grace crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her foot.

"We have things to discuss," Elena says in an almost whine. How on earth did Christian ever let this woman dominate him?

"I have said everything that I need to say to you Elena," Christian says with an absolute finality to his tone. "I think you should leave, don't you?"

"Christian, please." The only way I could describe how Elena sounds at this point is that she is practically whimpering.

"Do I need to ask Taylor in here to escort you out?" It surprises me that this sentence has just come out of Grace's mouth. Not a second later the door swings open and out comes Elena. She is in all black, tight fitting, clothes; she locks eyes with Taylor immediately but it doesn't take long for her to notice me sitting here.

"You put him up to this didn't you?" She says jabbing an overly manicured finger at me. Apparently her bitch powers have come back full strength away from Christian and Grace's gazes.

"Christian is his own man, I didn't ask or make him do anything." I look directly into the eyes of the snake, daring Mrs. Robinson to come after me.

"You are a little bitch, and you know it." Out of the corner of my eye I can see Taylor take a step forward. I shake my head and he stops his movements. I place my coffee on the vacant seat Grace left, standing up; all the while maintaining eye contact.

"And you know what you are, a predator who makes my stomach turn." I don't hide the disgust I feel towards her from my expression or my tone.

"Christian is the same, surely he has shown you by now." She must have seen something flit across my face, because a triumphant smirk claims her wicked face. "You will never satisfy him. You don't know what he needs."

"I know he doesn't need you," I say with a calmness in my voice that I hope tells her she cannot win with me.

I can see the intent written all over her face; I watch as she draws back her hand with the objection to slap me. She might think she knows Christian but one thing is for certain, she doesn't know anything about me. As her hand comes towards me, I take a death grip on her wrist and yank her forward. In one swift movement I have her arm pinned behind her back, her shriek is piercing.

"So much for your dominance, mistress." I have lent in close to her, whispering into her ear. "Stay the fuck away from Christian you child objectifying whore."

"Let me go," she says with a scream. I feel their presence there rather than see them at first. As I release Elena, and Taylor herds her away, I turn and see Christian leaning against Grace in the doorway. His eyes house so many different emotions, but Grace's only have one; the expression on her face is complete and utter shock.

"Sorry about that," I say with an indifferent shrug. The upturn in Christian's mouth makes me feel all warm inside, even in the hospital I can still make him smile.

"Anastasia, if you are all good out here there are some things I need to discuss with my mother." Grace only emerges from her shock when Christian says the word mother. It seems to snap her out of it. I nod quickly.

"You know I always have a book on me, take your time. I will be waiting here for you." His eyes shimmer, locking onto mine. He doesn't have to say anything, that look tells me everything he cannot right now.

Once Grace and Christian disappear back into the room, I settle myself back on the chair and begin to read the paperback buried at the bottom of my messenger bag. At some point Taylor reappears, two coffees in hand that I can tell immediately by the smell they didn't come from the hospital café. He sits down in the chair beside mine, holding out one takeaway cup towards me. I take it with a smile.

"What is this for?" I smile sweetly before I take a long sip and sigh.

"For doing something to that woman I have been wanting to do since the day I met her." He gives me a curt nod, then turns to face the wall opposite.

"Thanks Taylor," I say with a smirk. I enjoyed doing that to Elena more than I probably should have.

"Jason." Both my eyebrows shoot upwards. I am touched he wants us on a first name basis finally.

"Thank you, Jason. For everything." He turns to look at me again, his expression considerably softened.

"Anytime Ana," Jason says with a rare, and incredibly sweet, smile.

The two of us sit there comfortably for I am not sure how long. I can hear that Grace is crying, mother and son talking softly in the room behind me. My eyes are just starting to droop when Grace appears at the door again, her eyes red rimmed and her face looking tired. She squeezes my shoulder firmly, giving me a tight smile.

"Taylor, could you please drive me home." Grace's voice is drenched with still unshed tears. "Ana and Christian could use a little time to themselves, I have made sure that the hospital knows he needs to stay overnight."

"Yes, ma'am," Taylor says with a nod as he shoots up from his seat.

"Ana?" I had just stood myself and was about to start shoving my possessions back into my bag when Grace's single word stops me in my tracks.

"Yes?" I turn to face her, watch a new tear fall down her face.

"Thank you for taking care of him." Her voice is breaking. "I truly believe you are the single greatest thing that has happened to him." She pulls me into a bone crushing hug, which I return. Once Jason and Grace disappear around the corner, I head back into the room to be with Christian. He doesn't waste any time, dropping a bombshell before I even make it to his bedside.

"I told her everything," Christian says softly. I note that his voice is once again strained, not sounding like his normal self; clearly he is overusing it too soon.

"Everything, everything?" He simply nods. "Wow, that is a big move Christian."

"She didn't give me much choice in the matter, Grace is not a woman that can be denied." I smile at this. Sounds just like her son.

"I suppose she knew something was going on when Mrs. Robinson put on that show." As I reach his side I reach out and take his hand.

"Sure was sexy seeing you take her on like that." Just like that he has sidestepped how Grace took the news about Mrs. Robinson. "Ray teach you some moves did he?"

"I take protecting the ones I care about seriously." Christian has no idea just how good I am at protecting myself, just how much Ray has taught me over the years.

"It makes me feel happy knowing you care about me, want to protect me." Christian all of a sudden looks like a lost boy, hoping someone will find him. "I am free of her now, you know." His eyes are looking up at me, but I am not sure he is really seeing anything. "Mom knows, I have ended my business dealings with her, and I have no intention of seeing her again. All because you gave me the strength to see our relationship for what it was."

"I didn't do anything Christian." As I speak his eyes once again focus, focusing in on my face profoundly.

"Oh, but you did. You made me question the validity of everything she ever taught me." The seriousness in his expression, in his voice, makes me dizzy with their intensity.

"So you believe that you can and deserve love?" As long as I live I will always hate Elena Lincoln, Mrs. Robinson, for ever giving validity to those horrible and dark emotions Christian had as a child.

"I'm starting to." I don't have words right now to express the joy I feel at hearing him say that. Instead I take his face in my hands and kiss him passionately. I curse smoke, and smoke inhalation, because before too long Christian breaks the kiss to take a large breath.

"I hope it doesn't take too long for your stamina to return," I say as I rest my forehead against his and smile.

"You and me both baby." He winks at me adorably before claiming my lips once more.

* * *

Author's Note:

Surprised with how this chapter turned out, was originally going to be totally different. Hope you like!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight - Loaded Gun

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Loaded Gun

Upon Christian's insistence, I find myself on the way up to his penthouse. I loathed to leave him alone in the hospital, but he said he wouldn't hear of me spending another night in there with him. When he said that he wanted to imagine me waiting at home for him, that the mental image of me sleeping in his bed would make him recover quicker, I reluctantly acquiesced to his request. The man does not play fair, and I have no issues with that.

Honestly though I cannot wait to jump into a nice steaming hot shower. The clothes I have been wearing since yesterday morning are starting to feel gross, and my hair doesn't bear talking about. As I step out of the elevator as it opens, I take in the absolute quiet and calm of the great room. I thought I would feel weird being in this apartment alone, without Christian, yet it doesn't feel strange at all.

Instead of feeling out of place, I feel like I have just gotten home. Even though he hasn't been here since yesterday, I can smell his scent as I walk into his bedroom. A smile captures my face as I strip off my clothes and tuck them into the dirty clothes hamper; I can see where some of my clothes have been neatly hung in his closet. With the unashamed air Christian has given me, I stride through his master suite completely nude.

Turning the shower to hot, I let the water get to temperature before I step under. A long sigh escapes my lips, the final bit of tension leaving my body. Now that I know Christian is going to be okay, now that I can finally see him letting go of Mrs. Robinson completely, I feel something akin to contented. The only thing that would make this shower perfect would be Christian being in here to enjoy it with me.

I don't know how I will be able to spend the entire night in luxury when I know he is all alone back at the hospital. Yet I know that is not the real reason I don't want to spend the night away from him if I am being perfectly honest with myself. I can feel a itch building, one that I know only Christian can scratch. The further I get away from Monday morning, especially after the stress of Christian in danger, and our last spectacular fuck the hornier I get. Despite this I don't let my hand linger too long between my legs as I wash myself, as this orgasm definitely belongs to Christian when he is up for it.

Once the past twenty-four hours have been washed away, I step from the shower completely refreshed; I surprisingly don't even feel tired, only unsatisfied. I wrap one of the oversized fluffy towels around my body, but leave my soaked hair to dangle down my back. When I am no longer dripping I walk out of Christian's room and head into the kitchen. A sudden wave of hunger has hit me, and I realize that it has been some time since I have eaten anything proper; I can only imagine Christian's displeasure.

As I stand in front of the fridge, examining its contents, I suppress a shiver. The cool air from the fridge and my wet hair ensure I don't think twice about the unexpected chill I feel. I spy some meals that Gail has prepared, pulling out an exquisite looking pesto pasta dish and placing it into the microwave. The delicious smell wafts through the kitchen as I wring my hair out a little into the sink.

When another involuntary shiver runs through my body, I turn to head back into the bedroom to put some clothes on. That is when I see it. The balcony door is wide open, and I know for certain that I didn't open it. There is no way that Gail, Jason, or any member of the staff left it open. Instantly I am on high alert. Alas I am not quite quickly enough.

My hand is just about to grab the apartment phone when an arm snakes around my waist and pulls me backwards into a hard chest. In a flash I should have been fast enough to prevent, another arm pins my own arms down. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest, my mind trying to think of a way out of this stronghold. That is when I hear a sickening snigger right by my ear.

"And to think I didn't even know you would be here," says an immediately recognizable voice in my ear. Jack Hyde has me completely at his mercy, and he knows it. "Just another thing that should have been mine that Grey has taken from me." Jack leans in close and takes a long sniff, his nose grazing along my neck.

I don't let panic set in, not quite yet. Jack doesn't know I have skills, knowledge of how to get myself out of tricky situations. However I am not sure if he knows just how well he has trapped my body with his hold. With luck he will loosen his grip if he thinks I am stupid with fear. I release a manufactured sob from my mouth, let my body shake and reveal my genuine horror.

"Please, I can get you anything you want." He laughs at my stressed out voice, and I am just glad he cannot see the look of pure hate on my face as it would only spur him on.

"Oh, believe me Miss Steele you are going to give me everything I want." He pulls me tighter against him, pushing his lower body harder against my behind. "Starting with that whoring pussy of yours and finishing with Christian's life."

With a tug from one of his hands, my towel drops to the ground beneath us. I feel the first grips of real and absolute fear. If I cannot get away, nothing good is going to happen to me tonight. I have to play this one hundred percent perfectly. My eyes dart around the kitchen, trying to formulate a plan before it is too late.

"What do you mean Christian's life?" I don't have to ask what his plans are in regards to me; I know he plans on finishing what he began in the bar that night.

"When I started down this road I thought I would be okay just talking his money and his possessions." Jack's left hand moves from my waist and begins to run across my stomach as he talks. "However after the intense joy I felt seeing him in the hospital, I think killing him would be the absolute goal here." I feel the erection growing against my back, yet all I can seem to focus on is that Jack Fucking Hyde just said he wanted to murder Christian.

"You can have me, do anything to me." I feel a tear fall from my eye, glad that Jack isn't able to see it. "Please, just don't hurt Christian."

"Save it Steele," he says with his lips pressed against my ear. His breath is hot and reeks of bourbon; yet he doesn't appear impaired at all. "I know you are only after his money too. That is what all you whores are after."

His hands slip lower on my body, and I cannot help but try to squirm away from him. This only causes him to throw his head back and laugh; all the while tightening his slimy grip on my body even harder. I feel him thrust his lower body against my ass, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he does so. My mind is starting to panic, and I cannot let that happen or I will really be in trouble.

"Now, I think I want to take my time with you." As Jack speaks, I feel him push me forward. "Make sure you know who is in charge."

While Jack begins to walk me towards the lounge, the microwave beeps to signal it is finished. The loud unexpected sound allows me to make my move. As he turns towards the sound, I push all my weight downwards with a sudden maneuver. The double movement allows me to break free. This freedom is short lived however, as his hand grips onto my hair that is trailing behind me.

He spins my body around, slamming me hard against the wall. It completely knocks the wind out of me, my lungs struggle to take in air for a moment. One of his hands goes around my neck, squeezing with obvious intent. His other hand is twisting my right wrist painfully. However I won't give him the satisfaction of showing him my pain or fear. Instead I look straight into the face of my captor, hate billowing from my fixed stare.

"I knew you were the type of bitch to play games," his eyes burn into mine as he talks. Then his gaze moves lower, my naked body on display and he drinks it in. "You are going to spread those legs for me tonight, and I will make you scream like he never could."

Jack increases the pressure of his grasp around my neck, the pleasure on his face increases as I gasp for air. I recognize the look in his eyes, it is one of danger and malevolent intent. As I hear him moan straight from his chest, I know exactly what he is thinking about. Suddenly I realize I can play this one of two ways, and I think I know the right one to go with.

With all the strength I can muster and letting my most seductive smile capture my features, I bring my hand lightly up to his chest. His hold decreases in power ever so faintly. I tilt my head slightly to the side and watch the expression on his face change from one of control to one of skepticism. He isn't buying it, not quite yet. I have to really sell this performance and pray that I do not lose the dangerous game I am engaging in. At great personal cost I make a purring sound low in my throat, vibrating the hand still wrapped around it.

"If only you knew how rough I need it, Mr. Hyde." As he releases my neck and caresses the side of my face, he meets my gaze; there is a sparkle within his eyes. "You wouldn't be so quick to claim the ability to make me scream." I arch my back off of the wall, pressing my breasts into his chest. His eyes don't leave mine, not yet.

"Show me," he says as he lets go of my wrist, his now free hand moves along my thigh. His hands are no longer holding me, I could break free. However, I know that I won't be able to reach the phone in time.

Taking his hand off my thigh, I begin to lead him towards the kitchen bench. I can still feel his gaze on me, watching me from behind, the urge to vomit overwhelming. As I near the knife block though, he tugs me against his back and runs his hands all over me. I can feel him shaking his head from behind me.

"Do you really think I am that stupid Miss Steele?" He uses one foot to widen the opening between my legs as he talks, one hand now cupping my right breast as the other gets nauseatingly close to my pussy.

"So you don't want to bend me over the counter and fuck me hard?" I lean back against him, smiling up at him with innocence. "It is what Christian would do," I add after I few seconds. I can see him recognize the challenge of my statement, his baser urge to dominate Christian so clearly obvious.

"How about I claim all of your holes Miss Steele, and leave you dirty and used like the whore you truly are?" His face is mad with the power he is feeling in this moment. I feel a glimmer of hope bloom within me; I just might have him.

"So are you just going to keep teasing me, or are you going to do it already?" He surprises me by pushing me forward, my torso laying across the counter. My ass is pressed against him and both his hands are gripping my hips, but I am ready. I have cooked in this kitchen a bunch of times, and I know where everything is.

"When I am done with you, Christian is going to be distant memory." As he leans back and I hear the tell tale sign of a zipper descending, I spring into action for the second time tonight.

I lean down hard and bring my legs suddenly upwards. Jack lets out a surprised swear word, his hands already clambering for me as I reach for the drawer next to me. The first thing I lay my hand on is my goal, the heavy rolling pin I rolled pastry out with last week. Swinging it powerfully behind me as Jack grabs my hair, I connect it with his head.

He falls down with a hard thud, and I sprint to the phone next to the kitchen. I dial what I think I remember being security's number, I hear Jason's gruff voice as Jack grips my ankle from the ground. As he tugs my leg, I land on the floor beside him. The phone is still clasped in one hand, the rolling pin in the other.

"Jack is in the apartment," I say as quickly as I can before trying to hit Jack again. He sees it coming this time though, grabbing my arm before I can make it slam into the side of his face. With a twist the rolling pin clangs loudly on the kitchen tiles, spinning across the ground and out of my reach.

"You are going to wish you were dead after I am done with you bitch," he says as his whole face transforms into hatred. "You will certainly never walk the same again."

I kick out randomly, making contact with his nether regions. This earns me a punch to the side of the head, plus a few jabs to my midsection. I start to see stars and taste blood in my mouth, Jack's strength surprisingly intense. One of his hands goes around my neck once more, squeezing. I hear his zipper again. An evil expression is looking down at me as Jack leans back.

Something primal snaps inside of me, and my hands grab at Jack's face. He screams as I gouge my thumb into his right eye socket, releasing me to pull my hands from him. As he cradles his now bloodied face, I scramble towards the counter. Pulling myself shakily up, I grab the biggest and sharpest knife I can reach before collapsing back on the floor.

"You fucking bitch," Jack's visceral tone reaches my ears as I look back towards him. His left hand is pressed against his right eye, his body crawling across the ground towards me. "You fucking whore."

As he reaches me, as he goes to grab at my pussy, I thrust the knife upwards and into his stomach. His eyes look at me in disbelief before they register the pain. He drops the hand from his face, punching me in the head before grabbing for the knife. I twist the blade in my hand, causing him to squeal in pain.

Both our hands are intertwined on the knife, both of us trying to gain control of the blade. With all the power left in my rapidly declining reserve I push down on the end of the handle, causing the blade to pivot upwards inside of Jack. His scream is animalistic, and I know that I have done real damage. When his hands abandon the knife they move instead to grip each side of my face.

With decreased strength, but still powerful force, Jack thrusts my head into the kitchen cabinet. My hands lose their grip on the knife, my entire body going limp. I watch as Jack withdraws the knife from inside himself, while trying to blink away the haze from my eyes. Black oozes from Jack's wound, his hand clapping over the top of the opening.

"Black blood, not a good sign Hyde." My voice is croaky, and I sound impaired even to my own ears. However I am not trying to be intimidating, my only goal is to distract for now, so I don't care how pathetic I come across.

As he looks up from his wound, his eyes are wild. Already as he points the knife towards me I can feel my struggle to keep my eyes open. There is black descending from all corners of my vision, my body feels too heavy even though I am not moving. The blade is almost upon me when suddenly I hear something coming from behind me.

The pain stricken gaze on Jack's face momentary changes to a look of horror, then an impossibly loud noise ends it all. Jack's head explodes, his body falling beside me immobile. I want to scream, yell, do anything really but my head hurts too much to do any of that. Before everything blacks out completely, I think I hear my name.

The sweet release of the darkness lasts but a mere moment. Jason Taylor, now my savior as well as Christian's, appears in front of my eyes. The concern I see contained within makes me instantly want to tell him everything is okay. Yet when I go to speak, nothing comes out. Instead Jason pulls out a wash cloth from under the sink and wipes something from my face.

"Ana, look at me," his voice comes through load and clear. I try to make eye contact, but my eyes so desperately want to close again. "Stay with me."

Despite the layer of sweat that now covers my body which implies exhaustion, I feel eerily cold and horribly still. I can hear Jason barking orders to someone, feel him covering me up with his jacket. My body begins to shake uncontrollably, the need to vomit unbearably oppressive. Pain seems to be shooting to any and all parts of my body, the worst of it stemming from the left side of my head and my throat.

I cannot tell if Jason holds onto me the entire time because eventually not even his gentle words can keep my eyes open. Vaguely I am aware of being loading onto something, the soft mummers of other people just making it through the thick fog of my hazy brain. It is almost like I am not even there with my body, but somewhere far off past this point in time. I think I am trying to speak again, as I hear someone shush me soothingly.

"How long before you got here?" The voice sounds clinical, detached.

"I suspect moments before the injuries occurred," Jason's uncharacteristically shaken voice says. "I have no idea how long he was here with her though."

"And that was?" I feel as though we are moving, like I am being led somewhere.

"Just before I called 911, about twenty minutes ago." As I try to open my eyes, I feel someone squeeze my arm firmly yet kindly.

"Just after you killed the man on the kitchen floor back there," says another voice. This voice is strong, intimidating. Even through the haze of my brain it basically announces him as a police officer.

"Please, you can interrogate him all you like once I get the patient to the hospital." It is the clinical voice again, but now with a severer tone. "Any sexual assault?" The voice softens, but somehow remains detached.

"I have no idea," Taylor's voice cracks as he answers. "I hope to whatever higher power is listening that I got here in time."

They are all quiet for a few moments, no one noticing as I open my eyes ever so slightly. I can tell we are in the elevator, going down from Christian's penthouse. That is about all I can tell before the struggle to keep my eyes open becomes too much. I want to speak, to thank Jason for being there and saving me.

I wonder if this is how Christian felt as he was taken to the hospital, wonder if he felt as helpless as I do now. After everything that Ray taught me as a young girl, I still ended up a defenseless woman. With all my training, my skills, Jack Hyde could still have taken whatever he wanted from me. At least Gail keeps her knives nice and sharp, and Jason had a loaded gun.

We start to move forward again, the lobby of Christian's building hush silent as I am wheeled through it. The sirens are still blaring outside as they load me up and into the back of the ambulance. I still cannot manage to reopen my eyes, but once I hear the ambulance doors close I no longer try. Instead I submit to the darkness, submit to being powerless.

* * *

Author's Note:

I had a debate with myself about putting a trigger warning on this chapter, still on the fence about it. If anyone has a strong feeling that I should, please let me know. Sorry that this is the chapter I returned with after the delay.

I wish I could explain why there was such a massive delay, but it was a number of things to be honest; a number of not very fun things.

The most trivial reason is that I am hesitant to finish this story at the moment, as I have enjoyed writing it so much and it is giving me something to focus on when I need it. Alas there are only Thirty Chapters planned, which if everything goes to plan will only see us through until the end of March.

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine - All Of You

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine - All Of You

Head injuries are a mysterious thing. They make you forget things, make you imagine things, and most of all they make you so very tired. When I can open my eyes again, and keep them open, the first thing I see is Christian. I know immediately that I have been out of commission for at least a couple of days judging from the amount of stubble on his sleeping chin. His arms are crossed over his chest, his head tilted slightly to the side in slumber.

I watch him for a few minutes, taking note of the worried lines marring his perfect face. Not sure when our luck turned, I shift further up on the bed into a sitting position while I wish for us to return to good fortune. As he is sitting so close to the bed I can easily reach out and stroke the side of his face gently. His face leans into my touch, a small sigh escaping his mouth from deep in his chest. It is a manly sound, yet oddly somehow childlike in a tranquil way.

Ever so slowly his eyes flitter open, his sleepy gaze momentary unfocused. When our gazes lock however, I immediately see Christian resurface from the depths of his slumber. One of his hands shoots up, caressing the back of my own hand still against his cheek. His palm is warm, our fingers intertwine together as he sits forward on the chair. I can see so many emotions in his eyes, mirrored in my own surely. He is the first to find the ability to speak.

"I am so sorry Anastasia," his strong voice says in a whisper. He pulls my hand from his cheek, placing it instead over his heart. I can feel the thumping beneath my fingers, and I feel the pull from his heart to mine stronger than ever. "Your life was at risk, and it was me who put it at risk."

Shaking my head, I try to speak but my throat doesn't cooperate. Instead I feel a sharp pain radiate out from my windpipe. I whip my hand from Christian grasp, both of my hands instead going to my neck; not before I see the absolute sorrow in Christian's eyes. It is tender and sore but I still want to talk, no I need to talk, to Christian. As I try to collect myself, willing my voice to work, Christian stands from the chair and brushes the hair off my face.

He is so gentle, taking extra care as he touches me. Slowly he pulls my hands away from my neck, bending down to trail feather light kisses along the bruises which I am sure are there. Despite the situation I find us in, I still experience that delicious shiver throughout my body as he makes contact with my skin. When the desire spikes though, I take his face in my hands and tilt it upwards so I can look into his eyes.

"Christian, he wanted to kill you." I swallow, which is also painful. I look up at Christian as he hovers over me, his eyes alight with anguish. "I think he blamed you for his life."

"It is all my fault, everything he did to you." He kisses my forehead before collapsing backwards into the vacant chair. I watch as he rakes a hand through his already disheveled hair.

"He was a grown man Christian. His choices, his actions; not yours." I turn so I am laying on my side. His hand drops from his hair, his gaze firmly holding mine.

I can see on his face he lacks the words to continue. Instead he takes my hands and buries his face in them, leaning his weight against the side of the bed. Lifting one hand away from his grasp, I allow my fingers to tangle into his increasingly messy hair. That is when I feel the hot tears hit my other hand, a tender kiss being pressed to the soft flesh of my wrist. It is not until hours later that I find out the history behind his assertions of fault.

It is Kate who reveals the information I've missed out on. She got her follow up after all, found the real story while everyone else was reporting on the billionaire's girlfriend who almost got killed in his penthouse. Oh no, not my best friend. She had continued to work on her story; looking for the information I was searching for the night of the fire at Grey House. As she stands now beside my hospital bed, tears in her beautiful eyes, I see a crumpled 'Seattle Times' in her hands.

"If I was quicker, better, or asked for help you mightn't be here." It seems everyone blames themselves for Jack Fucking Hyde. Ironic, since I don't think Jack would feel the slightest amount of guilt.

"Kate I don't understand," I wince a little as I move in the bed to get a better look at her. She rushes forward, steadying me with a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Christian didn't tell you?" Her question is marked with disbelief, clearly sure Christian and I had already covered everything that had happened since I was attacked.

"He wouldn't; couldn't," I say before I pause. I am remembering his look of abject misery as I made Grace take him to the Grey family home and away from the harshness of being in the hospital with me. It is the most broken I have ever seen the man, and it scared me.

"They were in a foster home together, back in Detroit." She fiddles with the paper in her grip a little. "Do you remember that photo we found within the data leak?" I nod, my eyes darting to Kate's paper. She sees my gaze, pauses for a few seconds, and then sets in down in front of me.

If my throat wasn't so sore, I would probably have gasped. After a more than precursory glance, which was all I had the night we found it, I can clearly see Jack among the group of kids standing together; his anger palpable even in the still photograph on the front page of the newspaper. My gaze is however transfixed by the small boy with large solemn gray eyes. His haunting sadness will stay with me.

"I got Christian's permission, Grace and Carrick's too." When I look up, I can see the look of shame on Kate's face.

"To publish your story?" She nods, her eyes are downcast towards the ground.

"Even though the photo was already out there, it didn't need to be me that brought it out to the surface." I realize as she begins to fiddle with her fingers that she is feeling guilty.

"Kate, you are the only one who could have done this." I glance at the paper again, the byline proudly displaying my friends name in print for all of Seattle to see. "Why do you look so guilty?"

"Because my best friend was in the emergency room, badly injured and I chased down a story about her boyfriend." This is when she looks up at me, I watch as tears fall from her eyes.

"We have known each other a long time now Kate," I say as I reach out and grab her hands in mine. "I know that you needed to be doing something, making something, in order not to go crazy with worry about me." She smiles a little at this, and I nod my head at her kindly. "You have nothing to be guilty for."

"There was information about the adoption Grace told me that I didn't put in that article." Kate takes in a shaky breath. "It made me respect the hell out of Christian though."

"He has told me some of it," I say with a profound longing for the man I love.

"The part Grace told me about, the part I put into that article there, was about how she wanted to adopt him on the spot." Kate carefully sits down on the bed beside me. "However due to some restrictions he had to go into a foster home while everything was put through the proper channels."

"So that is how he ended up there," I say gesturing to the photo. Kate nods slowly.

"He was only in foster care for a few months, but Jack was there for years." Her voice has taken on a harder, more pensive, edge.

"Jack didn't have a Grace to save him." I am looking at the angry Jack from years ago staring up at me in the printed photo, a boy that was a victim of circumstance. "I guess that explains why he hated Christian so much."

"Maybe he saw what he thought he should have been." I shake my head, anger bubbling within my chest.

"Jack was successful, and from what I can tell damn talented in the publishing world." I swallow painfully, but despite the injuries I carry I continue talking; I say the words I know I need to. "He should have been happy, proud, of everything he accomplished on his own." Despite the utter hate I now have for the man, I feel a tear fall down my cheek. "He just never moved past his demons I suppose."

"Or he was triggered by Christian getting him fired when he bought SIP." Fair point well made I think to myself, yet Jack is not deserving of a free pass.

"Christian would never have fired him without due cause, the blame for that lands squarely on Jack's shoulders." Maybe a little on mine, because SIP would never have been on Christian's radar had it not been for me. I cannot feel regret for that though, because despite the run on effect on my own life I know I helped his potential future victims.

"I know," Kate says with a firm nod. "You know I wasn't blaming anyone other than Jack." She looks worried again. I tilt my head to the side, love for her sparkling within me.

"But I get what you mean, and yet while Jack was never homicidal before I have no doubt he hurt a lot of people." The two of us are both staring at the paper sitting between us as I talk. "If it wasn't this, his hate for Christian's fortune, than it would have been something else." Kate merely nods again, both of us rendered mute but the utter hopelessness of it all.

After Kate makes her exit when I became drowsy, I doze from the rest of the day. I think I had more visitors, but I couldn't be sure of who came and for how long. Until, that is, a precise knock sounds at my door just as I wake up looking for something to read. My expectant eyes fly to the door wondering who might walk through. I wasn't expecting both Jason and Ray to walk in however; my father and my savior together to visit me.

"Dad, Jason," my still sore throat manages to say. Both men look uncomfortable, miserable, and oddly shy as they both take turns hugging me.

"I hope you don't mind, but Christian and I both independently decided that your father should be here." Jason hasn't looked me directly in the eyes yet. In fact he is looking anywhere in the room but at me.

"When Taylor here showed up he only had to say your name to get me into the car," Ray says as he grips tightly onto my shoulder. I think he is holding back tears. "I've called your mother." We both chuckle, no more words needed to explain how that phone call went. To keep my own sudden desire to cry at bay, I quickly change the subject.

"Did Jason here tell you that he is the one that saved me," I say with a sudden vivacious tone to my voice. Taciturn Ray genuinely smiles for the first time since entering the room, but Jason lets out a gruff sound of disagreement.

"My team was the reason that monster made it into the penthouse in the first place Miss Steele." He still hasn't looked directly at me, and I really wish he would; all he would see would be gratitude. "You saved yourself," Jason says and turns to look at my father. "You should be proud of your daughter Mr. Steele."

"For the love of god and country, call me Ray." I laugh, shifting a little in the bed so I am sitting further up and can converse better.

"Dad it took me a long time to get him to stop calling me Miss Steele, give him time." That gets another smile from Ray, and if I am not mistaken a very small one from Jason.

The three of us chat, somehow somewhat normally. It is nice, almost familial in a way. My heart aches for Christian, but for the time being I am enjoying being in the company of my other two favorite men. We cover a little of everything, not one of us mentioning where we are and why. That is until I can do longer take Jason's reluctance to look me in the eye.

"If you don't mind me asking," I say suddenly. "How did Jack get into the penthouse?" Jason takes in a long breath, his face instantly crestfallen.

"I still don't know how he got access to the building, but I will," Jason says after about a minute. "I suppose he posed as a maintenance worker."

"Big building," Ray says as if to confirm Jason's theory. "Lots of people coming and going."

"Shouldn't have happened." Jason shakes his head, his face covered in shame. "But under the guise of that he gained access to our security room just beside the penthouse." I watch him take a shaky breath, I wish he knew I didn't blame him. "He lit a fire, or set off an incendiary device inside."

"Is everyone okay?" He looks in my general direction, but not quite yet meeting my gaze, and nods.

"Yes, they are." I feel his unspoken words from the look on his face; they say to me except for you. "But with my attentions elsewhere, when I returned to the penthouse with you that night I was further distracted my getting the blaze under control." He looks down and at his shoes. Ray shifts uncomfortably next to him. "With the cameras down I didn't even know that you were in danger until you called."

"I am just thankful Annie here got to the phone," Ray says as he claps a hand on Jason's shoulder, who smiles ironically.

"If the phones had been cut I shudder to think how long before I realized that the real threat was inside the penthouse." We all sit in the silence for a long while before I can take it no longer. I reach out and take Jason's hand in mine, looking up at him.

"You killed him, saved me. I won't forget that." Finally he looks at me directly in the face, looks into my eyes so he can see the appreciation contained within. "Ever." When he squeezes my hand, I know everything will be okay.

All things considered, after the initial shock of it all, my stay at Seattle General wasn't too bad. I think Grace, Christian, Ray, well everyone really was being a little too over protective of me. By the time I was allowed to be discharged I knew precisely how much tiles were on the ceiling of my room, and the number of bricks on the wall outside the window. Christian, Kate, and Ray spent the most time with me; that is until Ray was sure I was going to be one hundred per cent okay and allowed himself to be taken back home.

Grace, Mia, Elliot, and Carrick all logged some time babysitting me, which I will be honest made me feel really special. Mom and Bob sent flowers and their love, and I was thankful when Christian told me he dissuaded them from flying over to Seattle. As much as I love my mother, Carla has a tendency to make everything about her; even if Bob has gone a long way to calming her wild spirit. The closest things got to uncomfortable was when it came to what address I would be discharged to, Kate and Christian butting heads for the first time in a long while.

"She should be home, with me." Kate's stance is strong, her arms crossed over her chest. My duffle bag is sitting at her feet.

"I want to know she will have someone with her at all times," Christian says as he helps me stand from the bed with great care and attention. My doctor is standing close by with my discharge papers, and I flash an apologetic smile at him.

"You really want her to go back to the place she was attacked?" Kate sounds incredulous, patronizing. I feel Christian's grip on my arms tighten a little before releasing the pressure.

"I just want her close." His voice is small, vulnerable. He looks into my eyes. I think he regains some of his strengthen from looking into my soul, because his next words come out more powerful. "And I didn't say we would be at my penthouse." I raise an eyebrow at him, to which he mouths the word 'later'. An innocent cough sounds from the corner of the room, drawing all of our attentions back to my doctor.

"I am going to put the Escala address on these forms," the doctor says as he scrawls something down. "Just see the nurse on the way out, you are free to go Miss Steele."

"Thank you for everything," I say with a warm smile and he returns it with a patient wave as he makes a quick exit from the room. I find myself wishing he would take me with him. "Look you two," I say with a sigh when we are alone. "As much as I appreciate both of your protectiveness, I think staying with Christian is my best option." I watch as Kate's face falls, she is clearly crestfallen.

"If that is what you want," she says as she uncrosses her arms before crossing them again immediately. It is what I want. I don't want to ever be parted from Christian again.

"I don't want to keep you from work, which if I was at our apartment I would." I shakily walk over to Kate, Christian hovering along beside me, and I take her hands in mine. "I know you, know you would sacrifice all your hard work to be home with me." Her eyes dart to Christian, narrowing.

"It is not like Mr. C.E.O. won't get tied up." Despite her icy tone, I giggle when she says tied up. I feel Christian covertly spank me ever so lightly on my ass; clearly he knows what I am thinking about.

"Gail and Jason will be there even if Christian isn't." I pull away from Christian and hug Kate tightly.

"Are you sure you will be okay being in the place you were attacked?" Kate shifts back from the hug, holding me at arm's length and examining my face.

"Yes," I say with a definitive nod. I look over my shoulder and smile at Christian. "There are plenty more amazing memories within that place than just that one horrible memory." Christian smiles back at me, victory written all over his face. After Kate says a reluctant goodbye, Christian and I do a final check of the hospital room to make sure none of my personal items are left behind.

"So what did you mean earlier when you said we wouldn't be at the penthouse?" I say this as I watch him pick up my duffle, both of us sure everything has been retrieved.

"Well the thought had crossed my mind that you might not want to return to the scene of the crime," he says as we begin to exit the room. His arm is around my waist, even though I don't really need the support I let him guide me to the nurse's station. "So I thought we could hold up in a five star hotel while you convalesce." I giggle at his use of the word convalesce, and at his exaggerated motion as he rings the bell at the vacant nurse's station. "Or I could just buy another apartment or a house. You like houses, right?"

"I don't want to go to a hotel," I say shaking my head. "And you cannot just go out and buy a place and expect to move in on the same day."

"I'm Christian Grey, of course I can." I laugh, out loud and hard. It hurts, but it is worth it to get the look of utter happiness that adorns Christian's face at the sound of my laughter. "Well my mother offered for us to stay at Bellevue for the duration." He drops my duffle bag to the ground while we wait for a nurse to appear, using his hand instead to softly caress my face and neck.

"I just want to go home," I say as I kiss his hand as it sweeps past my mouth, pulling his thumb between my lips. Of course that is when the nurse arrives, looking between the two of us with judgement in her eyes.

Before long Christian is holding me as we take the elevator ride up to the penthouse. However as the numbers get increasingly bigger as we fly up through the air, I can sense his apprehension growing right along with them. To get his attention I stand up on my tiptoes, letting my breath tickle his ear. I plant a playful kiss to his pressure point, causing his grip on me to increase in force.

"Spill it Grey, what is the matter?" He gazes at my face before answering.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" I nod my head. I am beyond sure, I cannot wait to reclaim the space away from that awful memory that already somehow feels so long ago in time.

"After all this time I need some alone time with you, Mr. Grey." I nip at the bottom of his chin, one hand slowly running up and down his chest.

"Miss Steele, you still need to take it easy." He catches my moving hand in one of his, bringing it up to place a light kiss onto my wrist.

"The doctor said I am fine," I say with a voice absolutely filled with lust. Since giving myself to Christian that first time in Aspen, this is the longest I have gone without sex and man am I feeling it.

"Are you," he looks down at me. "Are you really fine?" As the elevator dings, and the doors open into the penthouse, I realize I am fine. I go to walk out but Christian tugs me towards his chest again, bending down slightly and scooping me up to hold me bridal style. I chuckle as I lay my head against his heart, biting at his earlobe.

"I am more than fine," I say directly into his ear. "I am with you."

"Because if you are not, we can move out tomorrow." He turns his head, stealing a quick kiss as he strides through the entryway.

"I'd have to move in first," he places me on the piano as I say this. I spread my legs and he stands between them. His hands run up my thighs, I throw him a cheeky smirk.

"Than you should," he says before pausing. His eyes gaze down at me, his hands now gripping my hips. "Move in with me, permanently."

"Only one thing would make me happier than moving in with you." He cocks his head to the side, and I recognize it as him asking a silent question for clarification. "I want you to take me into the Red Room of Pain." I watch his eyes darken with desire, but his face grows ashen.

"No Anastasia," he says with a vehement shake of his head. "You are not my submissive, never will be."

"I trust you, so completely and deeply." I take hold of his shirt, gripping onto it for dear life to ensure that he hears me. "Let me show you, I am ready to submit all of myself to you."

"Why would you want to do that Anastasia?" He sounds unsure, skeptical, frightened almost.

"Because I am yours Christian," I say as I tug him closer to me. "All of me, and I want all of you." His gray eyes are darting all over my face, looking for any sign I am being dishonest. "Please let me have all of you." I wrap my legs around him, pulling him towards me. He brings a hand up to caress the side of my face, his eyes round with wonder.

"Anastasia?" It is not the first time my name has sounded like a pray on his lips; it is a pray I am ready to answer.

"Yes, Christian?" My legs tighten around him, my hands increasingly their already too tight grip on his shirt.

"I love you." Those three words, those eight letters, come out of his mouth strong and sure. My heart contracts, skips a beat, and a smile erupts onto my face. I lift a hand up to his face and cup his cheek, already pulling him further towards me.

"I love you." Something snaps within both of us at our mutual admission, the last syllable barely out of my mouth before his lips crash down upon mine.

* * *

Author's Note:

Some chapters come easy, some chapters come hard. This chapter was one of the easy ones, hope you enjoyed!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James.

~ M.P.


	30. Chapter Thirty - The Color Grey

The Color Grey by Mary Pseudonym

* * *

Chapter Thirty - The Color Grey

My entire body is alight with anticipation, even the hair Christian meticulously spun into a long braid down my back. I am sitting waiting for him now, on the floor of his playroom, in nothing but my panties. Proving that I can take direction, I have settled into the position that he requested I take; my hands neatly placed on my spread thighs as I kneel waiting for his entrance.

After the events of both our admissions of love, after we fucked hard and fast and full of love on the piano, Christian sat me down and we discussed what him bringing me into this room would be like. He stressed my ability to use a safe word, and laid out potential scenes he was dying to try with me. Even with all of the information spread out calmly and patiently by my loving Christian, none of the elicit anticipation has been dulled; if possible the absolute caring trust between Christian and I has made me even more excited.

While I wait, I play imagined scenes in my head building upon my arousal. As Christian explained to me, scenes are preapproved acts between a Submissive and a Dominant. Due to our previous sexual history, we are more than aware of each other's limits and preferences. The safe word is the part I need to remind myself of, the idea Christian ever doing something I couldn't handle unimaginable.

The instant he enters the room I know, despite keeping my eyes downcast like he asked for. When his bare feet come into my field of vision I fight all the urges in my body to look up at his face. He appears to be wearing jeans, old and worn out jeans. At least that is what I infer from the small portion of his body that I can see.

"Now remember Anastasia, in this room you may only call me Sir or Mr. Grey." His voice is strong, seductive, in the otherwise silent room. "Say it for me," he says as he takes a step closer to me. I could lean towards the ground and kiss his alluring feet.

"Sir," I say with a purr. Something about his current persona is having an effect on me, a primal one. "Or Mr. Grey."

"Good." The independent part of my personality is appalled at how turned on I feel when he gives me approval, but that part of me is so insignificant right now I don't even care. "Do you have any sins you need to confess Anastasia, any punishment needed to atone?"

"Sir?" The single syllable that I utter conveys my question, my confusion at my master's question.

"Have you been a good girl or a bad girl?" I hear him pop open a button on his jeans. I wait for the zip to descend but when it doesn't my voice fills the quiet void.

"What does Sir want me to be?" The question slips from my mouth without me thinking about it. I hear his throaty growl and every part of my body clenches deliciously.

"Oh sweet Baby Girl, that is the perfect answer." He has moved to stand directly in front of me now and I suddenly feel his hand take hold of my chin. "Look up at me with those cheeky eyes Anastasia; I want to see you look at me as you take me in that smart mouth of yours."

Instantly I do what he asks of me, our eyes locking onto each other as soon as I lift my gaze. The look of power and control on his face instantly has me wet, my entire body aching for the release I know he can give me. Without thinking, without realizing, I bite my lower lip. His eyes darken instantaneously, the grip on my chin released as that hand moves to powerfully grip my hair.

"On second thought, I'm going to teach you some restraint Miss Steele." Christian's voice is low in his throat, the lust palpable in his speech. "Now stand and head over to the far right corner of the room." The grip he still has on my hair painfully, yet sexily, pulls me to my feet.

As I begin to walk across the room, I can feel him keeping step directly behind me. I can feel his eyes on my mostly naked body; feel the anticipation in both of our energies. I don't turn, even though I desperately want to, when I hear him grab something as we walk by. Instead my eyes lock onto the red leather bench sitting at my destination, which I reach and stand before. Christian leans in close to me, close to my ear, and teasingly refrains from actually making contact with my body.

"Bend over the bench," he whispers oh so seductively right next to me. If we weren't in this room, if I hadn't given him all the control, I would lean back against him. I will never truly understand why but somehow not being able to, not having permission to do so, makes it that much more arousing. "I want to see that beautiful ass turn red from my efforts Anastasia."

Holy fuck, I need this and I don't care why. With precision I lay myself over the bench, my body bent so my ass is lifting in the air for Christian. The leather beneath is soft, my nipples going erect as the surface cools my overheating flesh. He doesn't immediately move, but I can hear him twisting something behind me. The longer he waits, the more turned on I feel as I picture him looking at me in this position.

When I don't think I can take it any longer, I feel his hands run up my thighs. Using one of his feet, he spreads my legs further apart and moves in closer to my body. Briefly I remember Jack Hyde, the last time I was in this position. Yet as I feel Christian kiss the nape of my neck tenderly, I feel safe and loved. Now as I am bent over, his hand caressing my upturned ass, my whole body feels like it is on fire.

"What do you say if you are getting close to breaking?" He suddenly says, his voice clearly indicating we are about to begin our first scene.

"Yellow," I say immediately. He maneuvers a finger around my panties and slips it inside my pussy, causing a moan.

"And if you need me to stop, immediately and without question?" He adds another finger, making me clench around them.

"Red," I say with the last reminding breath in my body. This feels so good, so dirty, and so very fucking sexy.

"Good Baby Girl," he says as he curls his fingers inside me. I let out a long and loud moan, thrusting myself backwards towards him. "If you can remember that while my fingers fuck that delicious pussy of yours, I am sure you can remember them when needed." He quickly withdraws his fingers, smacking me soundly on my ass when I make a sound in protest.

"Please, Sir." I sound like a sex starved slave, which I am more than down for at this current minute.

"You will come when I am ready for you to come," he says as his hand tenderly rubs where he just spanked me. "Not before, do you understand?" Only because he cannot see my face right now do I allow myself to bite my lower lip, suppressing the moan that wants to escape. Suddenly he spanks me again. "Answer me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." I don't know if I will be able to stop myself from a climax should it happen, I have never been this aroused for this long before. I am ready to explode and my panties are still on. Reminds me of the first time Christian made me orgasm against the wall of my apartment back in Portland.

I feel his hands grip on my hips, and then suddenly I am being pivoted where I lay. When I am sitting upright, with Christian standing between my legs, he takes my face in his hands. There is still the spark of dominance in his eyes, but there is so much more going on behind them as we stare at each other. Even though I am about to get spanked and fucked he looks like the vulnerable one, he looks like the one who has submitted his power to me.

"I cannot believe you are mine Anastasia," he says not sounding like the Dominant in the room. No, he sounds like my Christian.

"All yours." Even though I think it is against the rules, I lean forward and capture his lips with mine in a quick but loving kiss. "Only yours."

"Yes," he says with a vengeful return of the Dominant persona. With a sudden move that is thrilling, I find myself bent over the bench again; my ass once again served up to Christian's mercy. "Shall I tell you what is about to happen?"

"Yes, please Mr. Grey." My body has began is shiver in anticipation, every nerve is beyond ready to not only hear what he is going to do but to experience it.

"We are here in this room because you wanted all of me Miss Steele." His voice is soft, full of the sensual promise of what can happen within these very walls.

"Just as Sir has all of me." His hand runs along my spine, the gesture so tender and so loving I feel cherished beyond measure.

"It has been a long and hard road to this point. Both of us have made mistakes." Both hands are now ghosting along my flesh. He is teasing my body and I cannot get enough of it.

"Worth every second," I say with a breathless voice. "Because now I am here with you." Suddenly his presence dissipates from my body, I know he has taken a step back from the bench and from me.

"And in that spirit I am going to give you a good thrashing for all past indiscretions, so when we exit this room we will have a clean slate to build upon." I hear the return of the sound of him twisting something that I cannot see, but I know that it is something made of leather.

"Can I ask what my indiscretions were Mr. Grey?" I don't know why I ask, because it doesn't really matter. I know that my supposed indiscretions only matter in this room, only matter in regards to us as Dominant and Submissive, because out of this room there is nothing between us but love.

"Of course Miss Steele, and I will let you decide how many hits that beautiful ass will receive." His hand starts to caress my ass cheeks, causing sensual tingles to shoot through the rest of my body. "Should I start from the beginning, when you were teasing me with that ass of yours the day we met?" I remember back to that moment, my disbelief that we got from there to here at all is strong.

"Or," he continues, "how about when I took you for coffee and you didn't look where you were going as you left." I remember that, remember him saying he didn't do the girlfriend thing.

"When Sir saved me," I say as a continuation to my own thoughts. Oh, how much both of us have changed since then.

"We cannot forget about that smart mouth of yours Anastasia, defying me at any chance it can." His hand swipes along the edge of my panties, my body practically begging for his hand to disappear beneath. "How about that time you thought it would be funny to lock me out of your apartment?" Fuck, he has a long list. I will not be able to make it all the way through, not with how horny I am for him.

"Enough Sir I am sure I did all that, and so much more." My voice is full of need, full of lust, full of desire. "Give me what you think I deserve."

"How about five, Baby Girl?" His hand leaves my panties, leaves my body. I instantly want it back on me.

"I would take twice that if you wanted, needed." At this very moment I would take a thousand of whatever punishment he wanted, if only he would touch me and fuck me afterwards.

"We will start with five, only because that smart mouth of yours is so talented at serving me." I smile at this, because I know how much he enjoys fucking my throat. "I want you to count though."

"I will Mr. Grey, I am ready." I grip onto each side of the bench with my hands, not sure what to expect but aware that this will hurt; yet something within me tells me that it will hurt in a good way. After all the build up the first blow comes out of nowhere, the pain sharp and targeted.

"One," I say with a loud yell. From the feeling spreading across my ass, I am pretty sure he is using a belt to well belt me. His sardonic sense of humor is not lost on me, even in this instant.

"Good Baby Girl," he says with that powerful and seducing voice of his before I feel another hit come down on my ass.

"Two," I say this time with less ferocity. It fucking hits, but I can hear him behind me growling in rapture. "Three," I almost scream as the belt makes contact again.

"You are so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect." Christian's voice comes out ragged and harsh, he almost sounds close to an orgasm when the next blow lands.

"Four," I say with a moan because I am slowly feeling the method to where he is placing the hits. I have a feeling I know where the last will target, and I am not disappointed. "Five," I scream at the precipice of ecstasy. Fuck, it feels so fucking good to scream.

I hear the belt drop behind me, both of our breaths combining together in the otherwise silent room. Then his hands grip me tenderly, pulling me up and away from the bench. Suddenly he is holding me to his chest, my body curling into him. I feel his erection pressing into me, but neither of us are paying any mind to it. Instead I think we both feel the need to be close to one another after my punishment.

"How do you feel?" Christian asks after a couple of silent minutes. His cock twitches against me when I look up at him, a look of adoration on both of our faces.

"Permission to speak freely?" He smiles down at me and nods. "Punished and ready for you to fuck me hard Mr. Grey."

"I am going to tie you to that bed, Anastasia." He kisses my earlobe, pulling it between his teeth quickly. My pulse is quickening again, I desperately want to clench my thighs together to gain a sense of relief. "And because you are such a good girl, I am going to give us a special treat."

"Can I ask what that is Mr. Grey?" I sound curious, excitement clearly evident at his promise.

"Well, Miss Steele, I am going to blindfold you." I cannot keep the frown from my face.

"But Sir I will not be able to see you," I pause. He also said he would tie me down. "Or touch you. How is that a treat?"

"Oh Baby Girl, you have no idea." He cups the side of my face as he slowly shakes his head. "In addition to all of that I am going to play some music, so you won't even hear me." His hand drops. "Your only sense will be touch, my touch." My entire body shivers in the way only Christian can make it.

"Your touch is all I require Sir." I let my gaze trail over his body. "But what will you get out of it?"

"I will see you, hear you, touch you and if you behave I will get to taste you." He leans in close, and takes a deep breath. "I can already smell you, and it is divine."

"You get all that, and my treat is touch?" From the look on his face I can tell he knows I am joking, and I can also tell he is elated that I haven't lost my smart mouth.

"With all your senses gone, your sense of touch will be heightened beyond anything you have ever experienced before." His eyes are serious, intense, as he looks at me. "I will own every part of you, take it all for myself."

"It is already yours, claim my body." Christian leans down to kiss me quickly before he carries me over to the massive bed where he throws me wantonly down.

"Don't move," he says powerfully before he strides over to one of the cabinets. I watch with keen and excited eyes as he gathers up what appears to be cuffs, and something made of silk; it must be a blindfold.

"Hands above your head," he says as a clear command when he returns. I follow his order immediately. The red satin feels divine under my skin as I move into position. Christian takes my left arm, stretching it gently before attaching a cuff to my wrist. He repeats the action with my right. Leaning down he nuzzles my neck, before tracing his teeth and tongue down from my ear to my shoulder.

It is at this point he moves to the foot of the bed, grabbing my ankles and drags me downwards towards him. I am stretched out, my arms almost straining at the cuffs attached to my wrists. We make delicious and heated eye contact as he slowly pulls my panties down and off, all the while teasing my legs with his fingertips. He then begins to cuff my ankles to the bed also. I am totally and completely at his mercy, tied and spread-eagle on the bed.

He slips the blindfold over my head, and everything effectively turns black. Carefully he inserts wireless headphones buds into my ears; the music starts, soft and low but builds until that is all I can hear. With my sight obscured, my hearing overwhelmed, and my ability to move taken away, I am completely helpless. Yet because my sense of trust in Christian is so complete, so absolute, I don't feel helpless; no, I full empowered by our irrevocable connection.

The first touch is as sudden as the first blow with the belt. Where that was pain, this touch is only pleasure. It is unbearably soft in pressure, and I know from the feel of the object it isn't Christian's hand or any part of his body. As it trails, with an unhurried and deliberate pace, down the centre of my body I squirm. Well, more accurately I try to squirm. I arch my body from the bed in frustration at not being about to move.

I feel Christian move his teasing from hip to hip, between my legs, along my thighs, all before retracing the same steps in reverse. All the while the beautiful music is invading my senses as well. When I feel him sweep across my breasts, as my nipples harden almost painfully, I realize I am moaning uncontrollably. I bite my lip to try and temper the sounds I am making. That is when, suddenly, the object he is teasing me with disappears.

"Christian?" I say as I release my lip. Almost immediately a sharp and target pain hits my stomach. He has whipped me, and I realize my mistake. I called him Christian; probably didn't help that I was also biting my lip.

I want to move, to writhe, to more fully take his attentions as he continues to hit me again and again. It doesn't hurt, but quite. Instead it awakens the nerves where he touches, awakens the senses. The best way to describe it would be sweet agony, and I let myself surrender even more fully to the erotic sensations than ever before.

The bed moves, shifts under a new weight, and I feel his body lay over mine. This lips take mine in a fervent kiss before they run down my neck and throat. Before long he is trailing down between my breast, before he backtracks upwards again to pepper my face with kisses. It is then he pulls away the headphones from my ears, and I can feel him hovering above me. I still cannot see him.

"Fuck me Baby Girl, you should hear yourself." He is shifting down my body again, kissing a path down the centre of me. "I don't need music in my life anymore, the sound of you as you submit to my touch is all the music I will ever need."As he reaches the junction of my thighs, as his nose grazes my heated flesh I know it won't be long before his expert touch makes me detonate.

"Please Sir, can I come now?" The sound of his throaty laugh almost does the trick, and I realize I too don't need music anymore; only the sounds of Christian. He doesn't keep me waiting any longer. His tongue makes delectable contact with my pussy, my moaning almost to the point of screaming. I want to move, to do more, but he is in complete control as he brings me closer and closer to the brink.

I can sense I am on the precipice of something. My love and trust culminating into a focal point of desire to please him, to submit all control. Now that I have tasted him, all of him, I want it all the time. The man has brought out the woman in me that was always there, hidden but within me all the same. There are so many shades of grey, the color grey filling my vision until I can no longer see myself in a different hue.

"Anastasia," he all but whispers.

"Christian," I say with a scream as I, mercifully, come.

* * *

Author's Note:

I don't want it to be over! I haven't ruled out part two, only this is all I had originally planned and I write best with a clear path in mind. There is another story I am hoping to start working on, which will take up my time. I want to get a bit of it written before I post however, since I hate needing to take so long between sharing.

Also, can I please thank whomever nominated this story. Truly I am beyond honored to be mentioned and appreciated!

Lastly, this is the one year anniversary for the 'Mary Pseudonym' persona. Glad that I managed to publish an entire story in that time, and that this chapter could serve as a nice little celebration for myself.

A huge thank you to everyone who read the story;a massive thank you to anyone who Followed, Favorited or Reviewed. This story means a lot to me, and I cannot believe the amount of support it received!

All elements of the book remain the property of E. L. James. Thank you for letting me into the world of Miss Anastasia Steele and Mr. Christian Grey.

~ M.P.


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